#so I may need to split some of them up once I start writing them

[domxmarvel]

Twisted wonderland-Card writing challenge

Masterlist 

Riddle

“Don’t forget your sunscreen” Riddle quickly grabbed your arm,rubbing some in with a focused expression on his face. 

“Riddle” He looked up at you “You’re here to relax,and not worry about every little thing. Come on,lay down and I’ll bring you something to drink” He did what you asked but not without wanting to retaliate. 

“Then who’s going to make sure they-”

“Not you” You were expecting him to go back to making sure everyone was behaving the second you turned your back but surprisingly he was still in the same spot when you returned. You handed him the glas,the ice hitting the sides of glas. “Glad you didn’t run off to scold someone” He just reached out,took the glas and took a sip.

“You’re right I should try to relax”  

“Good boy” His face turned as red as his hair “Once you’re done join me in the water”

“O-Okay” 

Malleus

“Excuse me,may I have this dance?” You turned to the sound of the voice,only to see Malleus standing there with his hand outstretched. You took his hand. 

“Of course you may” He kissed the back of your hand before pulling you close,putting his arm around your waist. Pulling you to the center of the room,everyone parted to let him through. He stopped only in the center of the room,you felt like everyone was staring at you and they probably were. “Everyone’s staring at us” You whispered,he pulled you closer.

“I can tell them to leave if you want”

“You would really do that?”

“Of course,I’d do anything for you”

“Don’t actually tell them to leave,it’s fine. I’m just not used to being stared at”

“Just focus on me,you won’t even know they’re here” He held you close as you danced around the room. Malleus was clearly enjoying this,the look on his face told you everything you needed to know. 

Lilia

“Y/N wanna join me for band practice?”  Lilia asked,already dressed in a pop punk way you never thought you’d see.

“I didn’t even know you played an instrument” You were too stunned to even ask about the outfit too. 

“I also sing,” He added,smiling like he wanted to talk about it more. You knew that Lilia was older than he looked and probably done more in his life then you could imagine but the thought of his playing an instrument or singing never crossed your mind. 

“Why have you never told me about this,what do you sing?”

“I don’t sing a lot anymore. I used to sing lullabies for Silver and Malleus” You thought of Lilia holding Silver and singing to him,just the thought of it made your heart melt and without thinking you said. 

“I’d love to hear one,if that’s okay” 

“Sure” He sat down on your bed,patting his thighs “Come here,lay down” You laid down with your head on his thighs,just as he started singing his fingers made their way through your hair. You were barely a minute in as you couldn't keep your eyes open anymore,you quickly fell asleep. 

Azul

“Why are you out here by yourself?” You turned to see Azul. 

“Just needed some air,not the biggest fan of parties” He sat down next to you on the railing,his hand resting on your lower back. 

“Careful,you wouldn't want to fall in”  You moved closer to him,he tightened his grip on you.

“Then you better hold me tight and make sure that doesn’t happen”

“Don’t worry,I won’t let you fall”

“This is better than the party” He laughed,kissing your forehead. 

“But it’s a bit cold. The dorm isn’t too far from here”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

Jade

“What’s the point of that wrap your holding,shouldn’t it be on your arm or something?”

“Oh this?” He held it up “ I’ll show you,hold out your arms” You did and in a split second he had your hands tied,using the reminder or the wrap to pull you to him. Lifting your chin with his other hand. “I was hoping you’d ask” He pulled you even closer,so you were chest to chest with him. Your faces are only inches apart. 

“Jade” He only responded with a ‘hmm’ making you even more flustered,but you couldn’t move back or look away because he was holding onto you tightly. 

“Something wrong?” He teased,smirking as he moved even closer to you. Leaning in utility you could feel his lips touch yours but he didn’t kiss you,he was just hovering there for a bit before he finally kissed you. 

He pulled away, licking his lips. He was still holding you,your hands still tied up. 

“Could you untie me now?” The second you asked,his facial expression turned more mischievous and you knew you had messed up.

“I don’t think I will,I like you like this” 

Floyd

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Floyd did usually stare but this time his gaze was filled with affection,rather than his usual curiosity. 

“I just like looking at you” He moved closer to you,his knees still up and his hand still on his cheek.

“I like looking at you too” You both laughed before you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. Surprisingly his cheeks reddened and his eyes darted away from you. You had never seen him flustered before,and he was really cute but you had a feeling it wouldn’t last long. And you were right,the moment you turned your head you felt him kiss you back. But when you looked back he was looking away from you. 

Jack

“Good luck” You managed to give him a kiss before he ran off,and you quickly made your way back to your group of friends to cheer him on. You kept getting looks from a couple of the other Savanaclaw students,probably due to the face that you had Jack’s jacket draped over your shoulders.  The stares were something you had to get used to pretty quickly,and you learned how to ignore them,but you could still feel them. Despite that you kept cheering for your boyfriend,and he finished first. All the Savanaclaw students cheered for him,he was smiling and laughing as he looked through the crowd stopping when your eyes met. That’s when you quickly made your way over to him and he ran up to hug you too. Picking you up and spinning you around before kissing you. 

“You did so well” 

“Well there was no way I could lose when my lucky charm is here”

Leona

“There you are,herbivore. You’ve certainly kept me waiting,now why don’t you come here” He patted his thigh,gesturing for you to come closer. The moment you were close enough he pulled you into his lap,he smirked as he leaned in. He kissed you,his arm wrapping around to pull you closer.  

“Should we really be here?”

“In the palace?” He seemed genuinely confused 

“No,the throne. I mean it belongs to your brother,should we really be doing this here?” He seemed disappointed at the mention of his brother,like he hated hearing you even bring him up. But behind that was sadness,sadness that you assumed that was because he felt insignificant compared to his brother and that he knew this throne would never belong to him. “Leona,” He sighed,not looking at you. It hurt and you realize that you messed up.

"You're right,we should leave” 

“No”

“No what? You just-”

“We should stay”  You kissed him before he could protest “Stay here” You pushed him until his back hit the chair. 

“H-Herbivore” He could barely get any words out with you kissing him repeatedly. “Herbivore” He tried again “Herbivore” and again “Y/N” you finally stopped. “Calm down,it’s not like I’m going anywhere”

Vil

“Vil?”

“What,don’t tell me you didn’t recognize me” He smirked,showing off one of his fangs. His hair was slicked back, his costume was still purple but darker than usual the black lipstick,making him look intimidating.  

“You look great” You attempted to deflect,but it didn’t work. 

"Apparently so good you didn’t even recognize me” You attempted to change the subject.

“So a vampire huh. Is that your way of saying you’ll always be the fairest of them all” 

“Do you suggest there’s someone else worthy of that title?”

“Not at all,my queen” He seemed satisfied with your answer “Or should it be,my vampire queen?”

“I’d rather hear something else”

“Like what?”

“Like the sound you make when I sink my fangs into you”

“Aren’t those fake?” 

“Why don’t you feel them and find out?”  

Rook

“Hello there trickster”  The sound of Rook’s greeting made you look up,only to find him in a tree staring down at you. 

“I’m scared to ask,but why are you in a tree?”

"Because I like looking at you from up here”

“Well,I’d prefer it if you’d join me down here” He jumped down,smiling at you.

“You’re right it’s better down here” 

“I told you so,and because you’re here I can do this” He was about to ask but you interrupted him by grabbing his face and kissing him. He leaned in further,pushing you against the tree as he pushed himself closer to you. Refusing to let go of you,he pushed you further. One of his hands moving to your thighs. Finally you managed to pull away from him. “Rook,someone could see us out here”

“I know a place we could go,where we can be alone. A place where I can have you all to myself”

Idia

“You actually came,I’m really happy that you did” 

“Of course,how could I possibly say no”

“Really easily” He mumbled,you moved closer to him.

“It wouldn't be easy for me”

“So I-I,do you wanna dance?” His face was red and the tips of his hair were turning pink. 

“I’d love to” You felt his hands shaking on your back and in your own hand,you followed him and danced for a bit. Before you moved both his hands to your waist and yours to his shoulders. The blush on his face and the tips of his hair turning red,as you leaned closer to him. “You look beautiful in that suit”

“T-Thank you” Leaning in, you kissed his cheek. He really did look beautiful,his hair lighting the room along with the candles floating around the roof. There was something so special about being here,just the two of you. There was nothing more you wanted more right now than to kiss him,but you didn’t want to scare him off. Just leaning closer made him flustered,you couldn’t even imagine his reaction if you kissed him. “Y/N” His voice made you snap out of your thoughts.

“Yes?”

“Could I kiss you?” Was he thinking the same thing you did?

“Of course,you can.” You stopped dancing and closed your eyes and waited. His lips were cold but you quickly got used to them,despite the cold they were soft against yours. He pulled away and you opened your eyes,his entire face was red now. “Do you wanna do that again?” He nodded. “of course I want to,as many times as you’d like” 

#riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts #malleus draconia #malleus Draconia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto #jade Leech x reader #jade Leech #floyd Leech x reader #floyd Leech #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #rook hunt x reader #rook hunt #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar #jack howl x reader #jack howl

[mysaintkitten]

hi g!! firstly i have to tell you how much i love your work, you’re incredibly talented and i’m always so excited whenever you post something.

i have this idea for a story: you and neil have dated for months but you recently split up and neither of you seem to get over the other, so one night after a failed attempt on forgetting him you somehow end up in his bed again. old habits die hard…

hope u have a nice day :)

first of all .. thank you so much !! you are so incredibly kind !! second of all, i made this a liiiiiittle bit angsty and fluffy but still smutty !! i loved the breakup sex idea so i was so eager to write about this :)

Break Up | Neil Lewis x fem!reader

prompt: you and neil split up (NSFW!!!! NO MINORS!!!!)

WARNINGS: (brief) fighting, (brief) mentions of mental health struggles, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (p in v), creampie

word count: 3.8k

the break up was messy. both you and neil shot vile, unnecessary insults at each other as he scrounged around your shared apartment to gather his belongings before leaving.

“you’re pathetic, neil. absolutely fucking pathetic.” you spat, desperate to make a dig that’ll hurt him.

“you know what? you aren’t even worth all this anyway.” neil snarls before swinging the door open, “you’re a cold-hearted cunt and i hope i never have the displeasure of seeing you again.”

you scoff, “feelings mutual, sweetheart.”

before he’s even fully out the door, you violently slam it shut, bumping neil in the process. he mumbles a few more profanities before finally leaving.

moments after this altercation, you’re left pacing around the living room. your mind flooded with him, the memories, the pain. what starts off as vicious rage, quickly switches into overwhelming despair. you just collapse. your knees falling to the ground as you sob into your hands. how did this happen? how can something so good sour so quickly?

neil fell victim to the same fate. he kept his composure until he got into his car. as soon as he shut the door, he was hit with a subtle waft of your essence. he wasn’t sure what exactly he was smelling, whether it was your detergent, or body wash, or perfume, but it was your smell. and it hit him like a ton of bricks. he teared up a bit, but he tried his best to stay calm until he found somewhere to stay for the night.

he drove to some miscellaneous pizza place and cried in the parking lot. god, he thinks, this is almost worse than crying in front of you. he feels pathetic, angry, depressed. he wipes his face and heads into the pizza shop, orders himself a pizza, and calls jonathan while he waits.

“hey dude, i know this is short notice, do you mind if i crash at your place for a bit? (y/n) and i broke up, it was really bad man ..” neil asks while pacing around outside the shop awkwardly.

“yeah, dude, of course. however long you may need. plus, while you’re here i need to discuss some things to you about a shipment that lucien and i picked out.” jonathan responds.

neil appreciates jonathan’s hospitality, but the last thing he wants to talk about is business. he wants to crawl onto jonathan’s couch and sleep, at least for a day or two, just avoid the world all together. but he’s an adult man, a business man at that, depression won’t pay the bills.

“yeah yeah,” neil answers, “sounds good. i’ll bring a pizza by too. maybe i’ll pick up some beers.”

“sick!” jonathan says eagerly, he appreciates the bare minimum, that’s what neil likes about him, “let me know when you’re here i’ll buzz you up.”

they say their goodbyes and neil hangs up, continuing to linger outside the store. he basks in the silence of the streets, the cool breeze, the dull and numb feeling that’s stuck in his chest.

once the pizzas ready, he thanks the workers and tips them graciously. he then picks up the beers for him and jonathan to share, before quickly speeding over to jonathan’s apartment, trying to get there while the pizzas still warm.

he arrives to jonathan’s place and they do as expected, eat, drink, watch movies, discuss business. neil feels as though he’s watching himself through some sort of film, like he’s not in control of his body. it felt uneasy. he believes the severity of the breakup has caused him minor disassociation, in some way. he’s desperate to vent. he has thousands of pent up feelings boiling within him and he needs to let out even the slightest bit of steam.

neil swallows harshly, “you know, man, i just really think i screwed it up with (y/n) ..”

“yeah, chicks are crazy.” jonathan retorts while grabbing neil’s empty plate from in front of him. jonathan doesn’t like to talk about feelings very much, that’s what neil doesn’t like about him.

but neil gets the hint. no sense in rambling to a man who won’t listen. so he grabs his beer and chugs down the rest, almost immediately proceeding to crack open another one.

jonathan puts on a movie that he knows neil likes and the two sit in near silence and watch. jonathan’s silent because he’s paying attention, neil’s silent because his mind is reeling. all he can think about is what he said to you, what you said to him, what it’ll be like to see you out in public. it branches into what’ll it be like when he sees you out with someone else? he can’t stomach the thought right now, he needs to go to sleep.

neil sits through the movie, trying his hardest to pay attention to what’s on screen and try to forget what had happened earlier. he wasn’t successful. but he tried.

the movie ends and jonathan pats his knees before standing up, “well, i gotta crash,” he yawns, “help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. use the tv if you’d like, just keep the volume at a decent level.”

“no yeah, definitely. thanks again, man.” neil responded.

the entire night he lays awake. he tosses and turns trying to sleep, but his mind won’t rest.

he stays this way for a few days.

he starts to slowly move on, little by little, until one day he hears that you were spotted with a guy. as soon as those words hit his ears, he feels a lump form in his throat. that’s it. that’s his breaking point.

without much thought, he storms off to his car and drives over to the shared apartment that you have now taken basically full ownership over. he hurriedly rushes inside while being bombarded with visuals of you with other guys, you fucking them, them using you, and worst of all, them just being affectionate with you. thinking of you holding their hand, them kissing your cheek and making you giggle, you dancing in the kitchen with them. just like you used to do with him.

before he’s even realized it he’s ended up outside your door. he stands there for a few seconds to gather his thoughts, he didn’t really come over with a plan, he just felt compelled to come.

neil raises his hand and knocks on your door. he can hear your footsteps approaching. but what if it’s a guy coming? your new boy-toy? he doesn’t know what he’ll do with himself if he sees your new partner right now.

you swing the door open, confused and shocked to see neil on the other side.

your eyes widen, “uh .. neil .. what ar-“ you say before he nudges you lightly out of the way, “i forgot some things ..” he mumbles before quickly making his way to your bedroom.

“neil? what did you forget?” you call out, trying to catch up to him, “hello? what did you forget?”

“oh, am i interrupting something? just give me a minute.” he groans rudely

“interrupting? what are you implying?” you question, feeling even more confused.

“oh, nothing, i just didn’t know if your new boyfriend was over, or whatever.”

the confusion starts to become anger, “what? neil, what the fuck is wrong with you? who said i have a new boyfriend? and what business is it to you anyway?”

he turns to you and laughs, “we’ve been broken up for less than a month and you’re already moving on! did i not matter at all to you?”

“again, even if i was seeing someone new, it’s not your business.” you snap, crossing your arms in front of your body.

he just scoffs as he feels tears begin to prick at the corners of his eyes, “i’ll get what i forgot and i’ll leave. you’ll never see me again.”

you can hear something in his tone, “neil? are you alright?”

you’re fuming, he’s infiltrated your space and now he’s attempting to start a fight? but simultaneously, you still feel a deep sense of empathy for him. you’re still in love with him after all.

“i’m f-fine.” he stammers, actively keeping his back towards you while sifting through piles of clothes, he can’t bear to see your face right now.

“are you sure? you don’t sound alright ..” you reply softly, placing a hand on his shoulder soothingly.

“i’m fine! jesus, (y/n)! just let me look, please!” his voice cracks as he swats your hand away, he knows he can only keep up this front for so long.

“neil, we were together for months, i know you better than you know yourself, tell me what’s wrong.”

we were together.

those three words made him nauseous to hear, he knew the two of you were done, but to hear it hurt on a different level.

he loses it, the tears start to pour out from his eyes.

you hear him begin to cry quietly, his hands coming up to cover his face.

“what is it?” you ask one last time as your voice begins to break, you had been struggling as well. but you, like neil, kept it mostly to yourself. you rotted away in your apartment, barely even showering or maintaining yourself. but today he saw you on a relatively good day, you felt motivation to shower and clean. if he had caught you on any other day, you would’ve been absolutely mortified.

neil finally turns around, his face red and cheeks wet with tears.

“what happened to us?” he sighs, “we were so good, (y/n),” your eyes are nearly welling with tears. “i thought i was going to marry you.” he adds, his voice barely above a whisper.

you’re at a loss for words, you didn’t know what happened either. it’s like one day something between you just switched. you were both stubborn, but that had never been an issue, until it was mixed with unexpected changes and outside stressors, you eventually just couldn’t stand each other.

you can’t hold it in anymore, you begin to sob in front of him.

“i loved you, neil.” you walk closer to him, “i didn’t mean what i said. i just felt hurt, and i wanted to hurt you back.”

“i know,” he chuckles through the tears, “i know. i felt the same, i didn’t mean it either.”

you missed neil, so so dearly, and you wished that he could come back to make amends. now here he is, and here’s your opportunity.

you swallow your pride, “i miss you.”

you see something shift within him once those words leave your mouth, “i miss you too.” he mutters.

he grabs your face and runs his thumb along your cheek before planting a kiss on your lips. you’re shocked, but you wanted this. you’ve been craving this. you kiss him back.

he pulls away briefly to see your expression, but you lean forward immediately to kiss him again more passionately.

he groans into your mouth, bringing his hands down to the dip of your back.

“missed you so much ..” he whines into your mouth while wrapping his arms around your waist, clenching you close to his body. you bring your hands up to your head and run your fingers through his hair, occasionally bringing your hands down to touch his shoulder blades.

neil slips his hands under your shirt and unclasps your bra.

“mmh .. neil, we can’t ..” you groan between kisses, although you aren’t making much efforts to stop him

he slips his tongue into your mouth and makes the kiss sloppier, moaning softly in the process

“let me make it up to you .. please ..” he begs, creeping his hands down to your ass.

he grips it gently and feels himself growing hard. since the breakup, he’s had a lot of pent up sexual tension. he’s been couch surfing, which isn’t exactly ideal for private intimate times, so he was rarely able to get off. so now even just the sensation of your ass has him popping a chub already.

as you kiss, he starts to slowly guide you towards the bed. eventually the end of the bed meets the back of your legs, and you stumble back with neil on top of you.

you detach from his lips and shuffle your body back, neil follows your lead and moves his lips down to your neck, kissing and sucking softly. his lips on your neck and the warm friction of his body is causing you to get undeniably wet. this isn’t the best way to go about things, you and him should’ve maybe had a civil and thoughtful discussion. but you suddenly feel his bulge graze against you, neither of you are in the right state to sit and talk.

his kisses begin to move downward to your collar bone, almost to your chest, but he halts.

“can you take off your shirt?”

without responding, you slip your shirt and now unclasped bra off. he resumes his kisses down your chest until he gets to one of your nipples, he swirls his tongue around the harding bud, suckling on it gently soon after while moaning lowly.

you gasp and arch your back, “missed these tits ..” he groans against your skin, bringing one of his hands up to knead your other breast.

before long, his kisses trail down your torso, sliding his hands down your sides to grip your hips. his kisses stop at your navel, where he looks up at you from between your legs, slinking his fingers down to your waistband where he hooks his fingers in. he tugs them down lightly, but stops. watching your face attentively for your approval.

you raise your hips and allow him to continue to pull your pants and underwear off. he moves out of the way briefly to efficiently tear them off, before quickly going back to where he was originally, directly between your legs. he groans at the sight of your wetness.

neil places small kisses along your inner thighs while latching his hands beneath them, his lips inching closer and closer to your pussy. he plants a wet kiss on your lower lips, making you whine at the sudden, but much needed gesture.

he continued to kiss, sloppier and sloppier, until the kisses become blatant licks against your clit.

“mmh! ne-il!” you whimper, rutting against his face slightly. he hums, gripping your thighs harder, “missed this cunt so much ..”

as you moan and rut, neil gets more determined to make you come on his face. he laps you up, occasionally dipping down to use his nose while he prods your hole with his tongue, or using his chin to rub your clit while he stares at you twitching in bliss. he’s utilizing his face in ways he never has before, he seems nearly ravenous.

he sucks on your clit gently before detaching his mouth, “use my face t’come, show me how much you want it.”

“i want it,” you moan breathily as you lock your fingers into his hair, “i want it so bad!”

he smiles against you. sucking, rubbing, and licking all of your sensitive areas. you using his face purely to get off gets him unbearably hard, he begins to grind against the mattress beneath him for some sort of relief

your gasps and whines progressively get louder and louder, to the point where your eyes are squeezed shut and your mouth hangs slightly slack, neil just watches. he missed you as a person, as a partner, but he also missed watching you be pleased. the way your body and face contorts, knowing it’s all from his touches, it just couldn’t compare to anything else.

his jaw is sore, his scalp hurts from your pulling, and the entire lower half of his face is dripping wet with a mixture of your arousal and his own saliva, but he has no intentions of stopping. not until you come on his face.

your ruts start to get quicker and needier, your thighs shaking and tensing in the process as you gasp and beg for neil to make you come.

“please, please, please,” you babble quietly, “i’m so close.”

neil can barely breathe, and he’s so incredibly hard he’s afraid he may faint from the loss of blood and oxygen flow. he groans against your pussy, crude sounds of moans and slight squelching fill the room.

your orgasm is inching closer and closer until it finally hits. your mind going blank and your hips movements coming to a stop, your thighs clench around him and twitch around his head. you’re quiet as you come, as if the air has been sucked from your lungs. neil licks you through your high, until you’ve become too sensitive and have to push him away.

“too much .. too much ..” you whine, neil hesitantly pulls away. he could stay between your legs forever.

he places small kisses on your inner thighs and sighs deeply against you. once he catches his breath, he trails back up your body with kisses. eventually his lips end up at your neck, he places a small lick onto the shell of your ear while sneaking his hand between his legs and palming himself.

“nothing else compares to you .. nothing .. no one ..“ he mumbles, hastily unzipping his fly and pulling his pants down with one hand, “i think your pussy was designed just f’me ..”

you whimper and place your hands on his clothed back, “this .. off .. please-“

he places one more wet kiss on your neck before sitting his body up. his eyes are glossy and his lips are a rich pink colour. he takes off his shirt and you can’t help but compliment him,

“you look so handsome.” you chuckle

he smirks, “thanks, i think eating pussy gives you some sort of natural glow, or so i’ve heard.”

you roll your eyes playfully and hook your fingers into his boxers waistband, “take these off, too.”

neil laughs breathily and removes his boxers, his hard, sensitive member springing free. his tip glistens from his arousal, you bring your hand to his cock and grip him weakly while pumping him.

he moans and his eyes shoot down to between his legs, watching you pump him, “oh, fuck ..”

his moans enable you further, you begin to pump him quicker. he huffs and whines before gripping your wrists and stopping your movements, “stop, stop”

you let go, “if you keep going i’ll come on your hand, i need your pussy.” he mewls as he lowers himself between your legs and aligning his cock head with your opening.

your pussy is extremely slick from the combination of his spit, your orgasm, and your persistent arousal, so he slides himself in with no issue. making the both of you groan at the sensation. as he bottoms out, he just sits inside you for a few moments, simply enjoying the embrace of your warm and wet cunt. you whine at the fullness you had been missing, while neil was away you’d attempt to finger yourself, but your own fingers didn’t compare at all to his cock. the feeling reminds you of what neil said, “i think your pussy was designed just for me”, maybe it’s truer than you thought.

his hips shift back and he slowly thrusts himself out, before quickly snapping back in. his pace is quick and needy, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him fuck you so desperately.

“neil-l .. mmh!” you gasp, swinging your hand over your mouth to cover your loud moans. neil chuckles and swipes your hand out of the way, “let me hear you, your noises are so pretty.”

“o-oh, stop ..” you tease, having just enough composure within you to still banter slightly with neil as he fucks you

“‘m serious ..” he moans, “hearing how good my cock is making y’feel .. so fucking sexy ..”

his pace gets rougher, and you almost instantly lose whatever snarky response you had in mind, “god, f-uck!” you cry out, bringing your hands down to your sides to grab the duvet beneath you.

as he thrusts into you, his eyes dart between your fucked-out face and your tits, which are bouncing slightly from his force. he places a hand onto your hip and the other onto your tit, both hands gripping harshly on whatever they’re grabbing. you whine at the aggression, feeling it get you hotter and wetter.

neil huffs and glances down at your pussy, whimpering at what he sees, “jesus, so fucking wet”

“you got me t-this wet ..” you stammer, feeding into neil’s neediness.

he moans, “y-yeah?”, his voice high and shaky, normally he’d want to come off as dominant and basically stoic, but right now he’s absolutely pussy-whipped, he couldn’t pull himself together if he tried.

hearing the pleasure in his tone makes you hum, your legs wrapping around him and squeezing him lightly.

he laughs and gulps, “so desperate to keep my cock inside.”

you nod quickly and snake your hand between your legs to rub your clit as you clench around him involuntarily. neil whimpers small sounds of approval, knowing how close you are to coming. his breaths are heavy and he’s having a hard time keeping up the quick rough pace, both of you are approaching your orgasms rapidly. the aesthetics of it really don’t matter, the pleasures your bodies are giving each other is what matters above all else.

“gonna come ..” neil swallows, “gonna come ..”

you wanna tell him you’re going to come too, but you physically can’t vocalize it, but you assume your whimpers and clenching and wetness is telling enough.

moments later, you’re coming on his cock, “n-eil!” you shout as your body convulses slightly from the overwhelming sensation. watching you come pushes him over the edge completely, “yeah, yeah, fuck!” he rambles, his brows furrowing and mouth hanging slack as he comes while continuing to pump himself inside you.

you ride out your orgasms until it eventually becomes too overstimulating for the both of you, he pulls out his softening cock and huffs. your thighs twitch at the feeling of his and yours come begin to slowly drip out from inside of you. neil smirks proudly “i missed seeing this too .. so goddamn much ..”

after that, you and him sit in silence for a little. you don’t really know what to say, and you don’t know what you are. still exes? friends? partners?

instead of pondering, you think fuck it and just ask;

“what are we now?”

“what do you want us to be?” he responds

“i want us to get back together.”

“i want that, too.”

——

back to my old reliable .. neil !!!

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #neil lewis #neil lewis x reader #watching the detectives #hope y’all like this #:)

[moumouton4]

Hi, I hope you don't mind this request. But I would like a Muichiro smut with a female reader getting a 'reward' after a long day of training and hunting oni? The reader is so tired that Muichiro was making her feel good after a long day of work. I hope you don't mind, but it's just mild obscenity.

A Well Deserved Reward || Muichiro Tokito x fem!reader

A/n : Helloooo world I'm so happy to provide y'all with a new fic ! I just hope no ones going to come and bother me again about this, because seriously this is so hypocritical. Anyways, I really hope you'll like it 🥪🍦

A/n 2 : Muichiro is aged up like all the characters y'all read for and write for from other mangas such as Mha, Assassination Classroom, Gambling School, Tokyo Revengers... so if anyone comes here and complain bro I'mma take the first plane and find you because you've been warned 👀

Warnings : Muichiro is aged up ofc, oral sex fem!receiver, soft and vanilla sex, 18+ READERS ONLY and wrap it before you tap it

Masterlist ⚜

I don’t give permission to repost my work, if you want to share it just reblogue it

Word count : 860

The day has been hectic. You basically killed onis after onis without any interruptions. After you killed one, another came out of the darkness and launched towards you

You didn’t even sit down the whole afternoon, and Muichiro has seen it. His eyes stayed on you the whole time - he could be quite protective when you were on mission - in case the fight got you too tired, leaving you without any energy to block the demons’ attacks

Though you managed, you’re so badass after all

When the area was finally cleared and the sun beginning to rise, you shuffled through the high grass, your hands working on sheathing your katana as you made your way towards your man

As his eyes locked onto yours he didn’t need an extra seconds to notice how exhausted and drained you were and he didn’t need anymore proof to wrap his arm around your waist and help you back to the demon slayer headquarters

That’s it he had made up his mind, tonight was going to be about you

Even if you were actually able to stand and walk - even slowly - it didn’t take him more than 5 minutes to decide to hoist you on his shoulder - making sure you were comfortable - before gently carrying you to your home. You could still feel a little hurry in his step. Little did you know his brain was already working on ways to make this evening agreable and memorable for his sweet little girl

When you got him he didn’t let you do anything that could drain even more energy. He took your shoes off himself, helped you freshen up as you had spent the whole day fighting demons before guiding you to your shared bedroom

He kissed and nuzzled against your neck, leaving some warmth on your skin. You felt his mouth travel down and down before his lips pressed one more kiss on your stomach

“May I go further ?” he first needed to make sure you consented to this

Your voice caught in your throat as a breathless “yes“ escaped your lips

It was the only thing he needed to hook his finger to the waistband of your pants. As he pulled them down you saw his gaze turn heated and hungry in a split second

Once you were bare he just inched his head closed to your core, you could feel his hair brushing and tickling against your thighs. Tying them up ? Nah to lazy and horny for that

His lips first gently set on on clit, giving it slow and sweet kisses until law and appreciative moans fell from your mouths

Then he poked his tongue out and licked from bottom to top, coating his lips with your juices in the process. Each time he used his skilled tongue to tenderly stroke you clit

Your legs started shaking and close around his hand, so he had to hold your spread for him as he continued to lavish you with his tenderness

He is probably not going to stop until you come, so that he knows you’re perfectly relaxed for him but also enjoyed your time just in case he were to come too fast, because gosh the day had been tense and with everything he just did to you he couldn't take it anymore to be not deep inside you

Now that you’re wet enough he quickly unfastens his pants and undresses. He is so hard, the tent in his pant is prominent, a subtle stain forming where his tip presses against the fabric

He lies you comfortably on the soft cheers before crawling on top of you

He penetrates you slowly, mindful of not hurting you after the long day you’ve had

He moves slowly, dragging his cock in and out of you, eliciting soft moans from you and deep groans from him

You can feel each veins and each throbs as he precums in you

His mouth only leave the crook of your neck to press loving kisses your lips

As he moves his muscles flex and you cling to his body. He clings as much on you

When he finally reaches his climax he cums inside you. He always does so unless you’re begging him to do it somewhere else

You stay 30 min or so in bed tracing patterns on each others back until you both calm down

After this he helps you to the bathroom. He gives you some privacy to let you pee and then he uses a warm and clean washcloth to clean up any evidence of your shared passion

Then you went back to bed. You snuggled up under the fluffy covers, legs entangling as you shared more kisses. His arms pulled you closer before tightening, he left more kisses on the crown of your hair

As he breathed in your scent he slowly started to fall asleep. As he looked down at you you were already fast asleep, a small smile appeared on his face, yes he was exactly where he needed to be, right in your arms surrounded by your love and very ready to share his affection and devotion with you

#demon slayer #demon slayer imagine #demon slayer smut #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba imagine #kimetsu no yaiba smut #muichiro tokito #muichiro tokito imagine #muichiro tokito x reader #muichiro tokito smut #muichiro x reader #muichiro smut #kny muichiro #kny muichiro x reader #smut #request #miri-writes

[bunnliix]

The Invisible Strings that Bind Us - Chapter Three

The angst has arrived! It's not as bad as it will be later on, but it's definitely angsty. Also, I'm adding in my own details to flesh out y/n some more, but I'm trying to keep her as neutral as possible, I promise. I have about 6 chapters pre-written, but after that, the chapters will come at whatever pace I'm able to write at.

Masterlist

word count: 3.4k

warnings: ANGST, fighting, yelling, people are angry, mentions of anxiety and panic attacks, but no actual details are provided, Minho being a lil shit, I think that's it

Chan ushers everyone into the room, guiding Y/n over to a chair and pulling it out for her, only sitting down once everyone else had. The two youngest and Hyunjin sat over on the left side of Chan, who sat to the right of Y/n, while Minho sat on her other side, and Han, Changbin, and Seungmin on his other side. Across from them, sat the managers for Stray Kids, and some of the higher ups in the company. As soon as all nine of them had walked in, all eyes in the room were locked on the newcomer, and this was why Chan had kept her between himself and Minho. 

Chan breaks the silence in the room, leaning forward towards the staff members. 

“This is Y/n, our last soulmate. We’ve confirmed this fact, and there is no way that she isn’t our soulmate. This meeting is just to inform you all about this, so that we’re all on the same page. We’d also like to have a bigger place, and one apartment instead of two separate ones, as we are now a bigger group, and we want to be closer, and not have to be split up.“ 

Chan spoke for the entire group, as he was the best suited to clearly get across their needs, and the group was on the same page, so no one needed to add onto anything he said. However, the staff didn’t have the same reaction.

“And how have you confirmed that she’s your last soulmate? She could be a sasaeng for all we know, and that she’s fooled all of you. And frankly, this is bad for your reputation and popularity if this gets out. She could ruin you all, you realize that?” One of the higher ups interrupted Chan, looking upset at this news.

“You don’t need to know how we confirmed it, but she’s here now and she’s ours. We all know she’s our last soulmate, and that’s all we care about. She’s moving here to Seoul to be with us, and she’s a part of our lives, as idols and outside of that. We expect that she’ll go with us where she can, and that will be that.” Chan replied curtly, anger filling his voice as he continued talking. “She’ll need security, and if the company won’t provide any, then we will independently find security for her. This meeting is simply to inform you of all of these facts, it was never meant to be a discussion.” He finished.

Chan was visibly upset, fists clenched and his body tense. The anger rolled off him in rage, he couldn’t believe that they would say that. That they’d really believe that he and the boys would be fooled by someone. Changbin laid a hand on Chan’s shoulder, also visibly upset, and trying to reign in his own emotions. Everyone was in varied states of anger, while Y/n was trying to make herself appear smaller, worrying that her presence may hurt the group. 

“I’m happy for you all, that you’ve found your last soulmate,” their main manager spoke up, “Though I worry what this will mean, if your fans find out. You know how vicious they can be.” He said. 

He wasn’t wrong, but it hurt to hear that from their manager, that they’re close to, that even he thought that their soulmate could bring ruin to their group. Minho pulled Y/n and Han close, feeling the anxiety they were both starting to experience. 

“If our fans are truly fans, then they’ll be happy for us that we’ve found our last soulmate. If people get upset about it, then they were never true fans.” Changbin piped up, defending Chan and the group.

The boys all voiced their agreement while Minho just stared down the staff members, anger clear in his eyes. It very quickly turned into an argument between the boys and the staff, words flying across the table, and it seemed as if Changbin was ready to leap across the table, judging by his expression. Y/n and Han both leaned closer to Minho, feeling very uncomfortable amongst all the yelling and loud voices. He held the two of them close, bringing an arm around each of their shoulders.

“I WILL NEVER SEND MY SOULMATE AWAY, NO MATTER WHAT YOU MAY WANT. SHE’S OURS AND YOU’D HAVE TO KILL ME FIRST IF YOU EVER THOUGHT ABOUT TRYING TO GET RID OF HER!” Chan roared, having stood up and slammed his hands on the table out of his fury. His eyes were burning with anger, and he looked one more word away from strangling the staff members where they sat. 

The others were equally as mad, also having stood up when Chan did, ready to defend their soulmates and their group. Minho was done with all of this, standing up and grabbing the hands of Y/n and Han, dragging the two of them out of the room with him. The boys watched as the three of them left, Chan glad that Minho did so, but also worried for his soulmates. 

“We’re done here, I’ve just informed you of what you needed to know, so we’re leaving now.” He tells them, before looking at their manager. “I’ll be talking with you later, manager-nim.” He told the man, as he gathered everyone out of their seats and they all left the room, leaving the staff and higher ups by themselves.

The remaining boys followed Chan as they made their way down the halls to the elevator, on a mission to find where their three soulmates had disappeared to. Everyone’s phone’s go off, and Felix checks it to see that Minho was telling them to meet in the lobby. The second eldest was taking Han and Y/n home, and no one was going to stop him. They rushed down to the lobby, finding the three of them on seats in the corner of the lobby, Y/n now wearing Minho’s jacket, almost drowning in it. Felix rushed over, sitting down next to Y/n and wrapping his arms around her. 

“We’re taking you home, soulmate. I’ll tell you this every time you need to hear it, but nothing of what those people said is true. They’re looking out for their own interests, not ours. We want you here, you will not ruin anything, nor will you being our soulmate hurt us or Stray Kids.” Felix whispered to her.

Meanwhile, Chan had already called cars to come pick them up and drive them back to the dorms, telling them to be quick. Thankfully, the drivers quickly showed up, and Chan ushered them all into the cars, sending Changbin and Hyunjin with the two youngest, as he stayed with the sunshine triplets and Minho. Felix clung to Y/n the entire ride home, not letting her out of his hold. The car ride felt like it took forever to arrive at their apartments, but as soon as they did, Minho was pulling Han out of the car, before reaching back to pull Y/n out as well, pulling the two behind him as he walked inside and to the elevator. The boys ran to catch up, arriving just as the elevator doors opened, everyone filing in.

It didn’t take long for the elevator to reach their floor, and they were pushing each other to get out of the elevator. Minho took his two to his dorm, Felix pushing ahead to open the door for them. 

The members stopped to take off their shoes, Han helping Y/n take off hers as Minho gave her slippers to put on. The duo of them, followed by Felix, lead Y/n into the living room, Han sitting down on the couch and pulling her down next to him. He wrapped an arm around her waist, keeping her close and nodding at his soulmate, who left them there as he left to the kitchen. Felix sat down on the other side of Y/n, reaching out for her hand, lacing their fingers together. 

“Jagiya is getting us snacks, okay?” Han said to Y/n, getting a nod in response. 

Y/n had withdrawn into herself since they left that room, neither Han or Minho being able to get more than a couple words out of her at a time. She hadn’t seemed to spiral or have any anxiety or panic attacks. They were grateful for that, since they weren’t sure what they would do if she had a panic attack. The two sunshine twins just sat with her, keeping her company as cat man Minho prepared snacks and drinks for everyone.

The other five boys came into the room, everyone having separated to change or drop their things off in their rooms, and Hyunjin moved to sit on the floor in front of Felix, while the others sat down in various parts of the living room. Chan turned to look over at the three on the couch, getting shrugs from the boys, and a small smile from Y/n. 

“You doing okay, Y/nnie?” Chan asked, adding the nickname in hopes of getting a verbal response.

“I’m okay, promise.” She replied, looking at him, using her free hand to gesture at him to come closer. She wanted him close, he provided her with so much comfort, even when she was just a Stay.

Chan moved closer, and she reached out for his hand, which he grabbed and held. “I’m here, it’s okay. You’re ours now, and we’ll protect you and keep you safe. I’ll protect you and keep you safe, okay?” He said, looking up at her. 

She nodded, looking down at him with so much love in her eyes. She may not know if she was in love with him or any of them, but she knew that she loved them in some form, and she trusted them to protect her, and she just trusted them in general. She knew that they’d do what they could to keep her safe. She tried to convey all of that to him without words, because she didn’t think she could put this into words.

Chan could see that, and he couldn’t hold back his smile, squeezing her hand, trying to tell her that he understood. He loved his kids, in many many ways, and he knew he’d grow to love her in those same ways given time. He moved to lay his head in her lap, still looking up at her. She pulled her hand away, only to use it to run her fingers through his hair, and he melted like butter.

The others cooed at him, happy to see their leader and soulmate relax like this. He worked himself half to death, so maybe their newest soulmate could change that, if this is what something little like this could do. Minho heard the coos, and having just finished putting together snacks and drinks for everyone, came out to see Chan and Y/n, smiling at how at ease Chan looked. 

“Drinks and food, come get it.” He announced, catching the attention of everyone in the room. He laid the food on the table, but picked up a couple drinks and some snacks for Y/n, Han and himself. He moved to sit down on the couch, replacing Felix’s place next to their smallest soulmate, the sunshine boy, who had gotten up to grab some food for himself. 

He sat back on the couch, happy to watch everyone else in the room and just observe. He was content, just to have all eight of his soulmates in one room, and to see all of them happy. That’s what made him happy, and he couldn’t wait until Y/n was here permanently, and when they’d all be in one apartment again, and they’d have so much fun. They could show their smallest soulmate the places here they loved, introduce her to their friends, have someone to come home to every day, there was so much to be excited for. Minho knew that every one of them couldn’t be happier than they’ve been today, to finally feel complete now that they have their last piece here with them.

“So, what are we gonna do now?” Jeongin spoke up, drawing everyone’s attention.

“We could watch a movie?” Hyunjin advised, his sentence finishing on a questioning note.

“A movie is fine with me, but I’m not sure I’ll pay attention.” Y/n said, still carding her fingers through Chan’s hair, the older man putty in her hands. 

Murmurs of agreement came from the boys, and it was quickly decided to put on a children's movie that didn’t need to worry about the language barrier, and everyone knew it probably was on for background noise more so than to actually watch it.

“Oh wait, Y/n, we never asked how old you were. So, when’s your birthday? And how old are you?” Changbin asked her.

“I’m a 2000 baby, so I’m the same age as half of you, but my birthday is September 14th. So yes, Han, I share a birthday with you.” She said, looking over at Han while she said the second sentence. Her birthday twin looked shocked, but then quickly pulled her into a tight hug.

“Oh my gosh, my soulmate is my birthday twin!!” Han screams out, causing Y/n to pull her hands up to her ears. 

“Could you be any louder Han Jisung?” Chan and Y/n said at the same time.

“Oh! I’m so sorry Y/nnie! I didn’t mean to hurt you! Please forgive me.” He apologized, looking at you with doe eyes.

“I forgive you, but please never do that next to my ears again.” She told him, before impulsively leaning in to kiss his cheek.

Han’s face turned as red as a tomato, not expecting Y/n to kiss him, and the rest of the boys were as shocked as he was, bits of jealousy sprouting in more than a couple of them. Y/n pulled back, her face showing just how flustered she was as well, as she went to hide her face in the couch behind her. They boys all cooed at her, finding her embarrassment adorable. 

“Shush!” She shouted at them, but the word and sound was muffled by the couch she was hiding in.

All that happened was them laughing at her and cooing how cute she was. She pouted, and refused to turn to look at them. Minho smirked, and reached out to grab her sides, tickling her, as she screamed and yelled for him to stop. He refused to stop and she eventually moved back towards him, in an attempt to get him to stop. He used this as an opportunity to pull her closer and into his lap. She froze up as she felt him do this, and he chuckled at her actions. 

“Jagiya, why did you freeze?” He whispered, leaning down close to her ear.

“You try getting pulled into someone’s lap unexpectedly. I bet you’d react the same.” She whisper-shouted at him.

“Adorable, 토끼.” He said, chuckling in her ear, making her shiver and pull away, moving out of his lap and turning around.

“No. No, bad cat man.” She said, pointing at him. 

He just raised an eyebrow at her, and she pulled her hands up and curled them into fists, joking that she’d fight him. He leaned back on his hands, showing no fear, knowing she wouldn’t do it. She’s too cute to try anything.

“Okay, no fighting. Y/n, hands down, now. Minho, let’s not kill our soulmate, yeah?” Chan stepped in, scolding both of them. 

Y/n folded her arms across her chest, mumbling, “He started it, the lil fucker.”

Han overheard it, causing him to laugh, which made everyone look at him. “You better not let Jagi hear you say that about him. You’d be in for it then baby.” He said between laughs, not being able to keep a straight face. 

Y/n slapped his arm, pouting. “You shut up.” She told him, unhappy with his reaction. He laughed at how embarrassed she was at being overheard. She pouted, getting up off the couch, and out of the living room going down one of the hallways. Chan stood up and went after her. The boys waited in the living room, only to hear a shout of Chan’s name, and their curiosity peaked.

A minute later, he walked back in with Y/n laying over his shoulder. She smacked his ass, telling him to put her down. He chuckled and dropped her back into Minho’s lap. 

“There you go.” He said, smiling that smug smile at her, as Minho’s arms wrapped around her waist, locking in her against him. She tried to get out, but his grip was too tight, not letting her go.

“Yah, Minho, let me go!” She told him, only to receive a smirk and a head shake in response.

“So cute, our adorable soulmate.” Changbin teased her, giggling.

She crossed her arms and pouted once again. Why must her soulmates be like this, she wasn’t prepared for this. What was in the drinks Minho gave everyone? There had to be something, with how they’re acting. Lino leaned his head on her shoulder, giggling like a smug lil fucker. 

“Why are you so insistent on getting away from me, hmm jagi?” He asked, in a tone a voice that told everyone that he wouldn’t be taking anything except the truth.

“Because you’re being a lil shit.” Y/n deadpanned, done with him by this point. 

“Awww jagi, you love me like that.” Minho said, causing the others to look at him, this was the Minho that they saw with Han, the teasy one who was ready to make the other person into a flustered mess.

“Minho, chill out.” Chan barked at him, knowing that he was crossing the line, when it came to their new soulmate, and he wasn’t going to let him go any farther. He didn't think this would be what happened when he left Y/n in the arms of his cat-like soulmate.

“Fine.” Minho replied, loosening his grip on Y/n as well. She used this opportunity to move over to Seungmin, who looked surprised. 

“I’m staying with you, you haven’t been bad yet today.” She said, looking at him.

He laughed, smugly smirking at the other men. “Okay, that’s fine with me. We could even go to my room to get away from them, if you really wanted to.” He told her.

“Hmmm, that wouldn’t be a bad idea.” 

“YAH, Seungmin-ah, no stealing our soulmate away for yourself.” Han inserted himself into the conversation, Felix, Hyunjin and Changbin backed him up.

While the five of them were occupied, Minho found a way over there, grabbing Y/n’s hand and stealing her away. He wasn’t completely unnoticed, Chan was watching all of this and quickly followed behind, leaving the six boys in the living room. Minho led her to his bedroom, but before he was able to close his door, Chan pushed the door back open. 

“What do you think you’re doing, Minho?” Chan asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m just taking our y/nnie somewhere quieter. Right, jagi?” He answered Chan, directing the last sentence towards their younger soulmate. 

The answer they received from her was a yawn, y/n covering her mouth in the process. The two boys cooed at her, smiling at her. 

“I think it’s time for you to rest.” Chan said to her, as Minho directed her to his bed. The eldest of the two sat down next to y/n on the bed, as Minho searched his closet for clothes she could change into. He found a long oversized top for her to wear, and a pair of shorts. 

“We’ll leave so you can get dressed.” Chan said, as he got off the bed and moved to the door along with Minho. Y/n quickly changed, and hopped back onto the bed as she called out for the two to reenter the room. They reentered, smiling at her as she sat on Lino’s bed. The younger of the two men came over and pulled her off the bed, so that he was able to pull the covers back for her. She crawled underneath his sheets, the man covering her back up again after she was laid in bed.

“We’ll leave you to get some sleep.” Chan said as he moved to the top of the bed, ruffling y/n’s hair before he grabbed Minho and dragged him out of the man’s bedroom.

Y/n turned over on her side, closing her eyes as she heard the noise in the apartment die down. It didn’t take long before sleep claimed her, her dreams filled with the men who were now her soulmates, and everything they’d get to do together.

Prev | Next

Taglist: @queen-thiccness

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz imagines #ot8 x reader #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #han x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x #bang chan #lee know #lee minho #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #kim seungmin #yang jeongin

[yanderes-galore]

Could I Request a yandere arkhamverse harley quinn concept? -🎂

Sure! Writing Harley Quinn could be fun :) This felt a bit everywhere but most of my fics are me just letting my thoughts flow without planning so I hope you enjoy ^^

Yandere! Arkham! Harley Quinn Concept

(Primarily Arkham Knight)

Pairing: Platonic -> Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Violence, Manipulation, Anger issues, Grief, Kidnapping, Drugging/Gassing, Breaking and entering, Forced companionship, Delusional behavior, Clingy behavior.

Harley could work as a romantic or platonic.

Like... as a platonic she seems like she'd be really bubbly and act like a friend.

A psychotic friend but... somewhat of a friend.

As a romantic she'd be about as obsessive with you as she would be with Joker.

One thing that Arkham/Injustice Harley share with each other is their independence from Joker.

It's just that they deal with it differently.

Injustice Harley becomes a hero after the death of Joker.

While Arkham Harley commits to crime in the name of Joker.

This version of Harley actually gets more insane at the passing of Joker instead of better.

Harley would be a very dangerous yandere in general, but this universe may just make her worse.

Her obsession with someone new most likely starts sometime around Arkham Knight if she sees you in a romantic sense.

If she sees you in a platonic sense I imagine it could be whenever but for now I'll focus on Arkham Knight.

Harley is a yandere who feels she needs to be dependent on her darling.

If she sees you as a friend/ally then she sticks around you as she feels you'll ease her through her grief.

Which is strange as if anyone else tries to ease her grief she snaps at them.

Here's some backstory between you, up until Arkham Knight.

The friend route would make more sense if you "knew" her when Joker was alive.

Harley no doubt first had platonic feelings towards you, that's how her yandere traits would start due to her being with Joker.

She stalks you for a bit then breaks into your home.

She acts like you two are friends and is really bubbly and overly excited towards you.

While you barely know anything about the crazed woman who keeps breaking into your home, she feels she knows everything about you from just watching you.

No doubt spills about you towards the Joker.

She tells him she's found a new friend and that they simply must be involved with their plans.

Your "friendship" with Harley is very one-sided.

She somehow manages to find you and even drags you with her places.

At least once you've been a hostage for one of her and Joker's plans.

The entire time she's acting like it's a fun thing for you two to do.

"Mr. J said I could bring you to meet him~ I bet we'll have so much fun!"

You did not.

Despite your fear and forced compliance, she trusts you and soon you may even get used to being a target of her strange obsession.

Hell, maybe soon you convince her you'll be her "friend" if she just visits and doesn't pull you into any of Joker's plans.

She agrees... and never leaves you alone.

You and Joker are the ones she loves the most.

So when she loses Joker, her beloved, she only has one other person to cling to.

While you contact the police and Batman of Harley's obsession towards you, Harley realizes she needs the comfort of her beloved friend.

It's at this point Harley can stay a platonic yandere or split into a romantic yandere.

Harley would hunt you down, even if you moved.

When she does? She'll send her goons to pick you up and drag her to her little base she's made for herself.

It disappoints her that you may no longer be in your old home, but she'll find you.

You don't need to hide from her!

The moment your conscious you look so confused.

Only to see Harley staring with a grin.

"Hey there! Been awhile, hasn't it? Safe to say I think I've missed you...."

Harley would use her darling as a coping mechanism.

Like an old friend, one you never wanted, she sobs and rants about the loss of Joker.

The whole time you're tied to a chair and hoping Batman comes fast enough.

Then over time she'd shift the topic of her rants to you.

She rambles to you about how you've always been there and how much fun you two have had in the past.

Then maybe the conversation dips into romantic territory... her mentioning how she feels things for you without even meaning to say it.

The idea of her having romantic feelings towards you strikes fear in your gut.

Unfortunately, it's not your say if she has romantic intentions with you or not.

If Harley continues to just see you as a friend then she plans on making you her second in command.

Even if she liked you as a crush she'd take a similar route, although it changes over time.

She's physically clingy and often wants her darling beside her.

Harley would also find some sort of "fun" nickname to call you all the time, smiling the whole time.

If Harley held romantic feelings towards you... imagine if she tried to make you her new "Joker" in this universe?

She may try to get her hands on Joker blood, gas, or even some chemicals to force you into her new love.

Oh, Puddin'... you may be unwilling now, but she'll show you that you can be wonderful for each other.

Harley in this universe truly can't forget about her Joker.

She also adores you.

Why should she have to choose between the two of you?

Why doesn't she just have both?

Harley in this universe definitely seems like she'd brainwash and drug you into the next Joker.

The moment she sees traits of him in you melded with your normal personality, she's in love.

Ohhh, now she has you both!

She's never been happier!

While you're panicking as your personality feels split due to Joker... Harley is holding you and kissing you with happy giggles.

"Oh you're everything and everyone I love! Now I have you both once again... we... I can be happy again!"

By this point something is telling you to reciprocate the affection but you struggle with what to do.

Harley becomes fully dependent on you after this, simply happy she has her two loves in one.

Maybe you'll even let the whole Joker personality take over?

Then you'll be a ruler of crime.

This isn't a life you wanted.

But as the Joker's presence within you grows... you begin to enjoy it.

Then maybe you'll begin to reciprocate Harley's feelings.

Then you'll be everything she's ever wanted.

"I love you, Puddin'...!"

#yandere dc #yandere dc villains #yandere arkhamverse #yandere dc arkhamverse #yandere harley quinn #yandere arkhamverse harley quinn #yandere arkham knight

[chronicbitchsyndrome]

i feel like before you complain about how "former gifted kids are always acting like they're oppressed because everyone doesn't treat them like they're special anymore," i think you should probably try to understand the common timeline that a kid getting funneled into the gifted program follows.

usually, a child starts getting funneled into gifted tracks around preschool-to-kindergarten. typically, what will happen is a kid will show socially unusual interest in and affinity for a basic life skill that also happens to be taught in school--usually either verbality, reading/writing, understanding and manipulating shapes, or basic numerical concepts, or some combination of the above. they might start talking fairly early, for example, or start reading complete sentences earlier than their peers, or show a lot of unusual interest in basic arithmetic. they might get IQ tested, they might not; this is pretty irrelevant because IQ both has almost no correlation with any measure of "intelligence" other than the IQ test itself, and is an extremely poor predictor of academic success.

based on this, the parents are encouraged to push this child into academic settings earlier and at a faster pace than their peers. once in grade school, they'll be funneled into the gifted track. often, they'll have to "test in" to the gifted track, but they tend to weight what the kid is showing an affinity for the most when "testing in." what the gifted track looks like is different for every school, but generally the common factors are more work, assigned at a faster pace, and dealing with concepts that their "typical" peers are not taught until a year or more later.

this is where the most common timeline becomes important, and diverges from what i think a lot of people's perceptions of gifted kids are. the kid fails. the kid does not have some kind of magical universal affinity for every aspect of academia. in fact, the kid has, in the context of their neurotypical peers setting the standard by which they have to live up to, significant deficits in areas other than the one they showed interest in at a young age. for example, maybe they started reading incredibly early, but once they get to grade school, they start failing every math test. they write numbers backwards and copy them from the board in the wrong order. they get basic arithmetic wrong.

here's the thing: the gifted kid program accidentally self-selects for developmentally disabled children with academic splinter skills. splinter skills are incredibly common in people with developmental disabilities; frequently, they don't get perceived as such because they're very often completely nonacademic (and may not be perceived as a "skill" at all, particularly in the context of more profound developmental disabilities--someone learning to use AAC very quickly, for example, is still perceived as a deficit no matter how quickly they do it, instead of a skill in developing communication methods with significantly less support and interaction than those who learn to communicate verbally). developmentally disabled people with academic splinter skills are significantly more common than abled people with an uncommon affinity for all areas of academia, or abled people with splinter skills.

once a kid starts failing, generally the timeline splits off into two possibilities, mostly dependent on how supportive their parents are, how well-funded their school is, and what psychiatric resources are available in their area of the country. option one is that they just keep failing, and get punished more and more violently over time for their perceived "stubbornness." they are perceived as obviously capable of doing the work the gifted program is assigning them, since they were tracked into the gifted program to begin with, and their grades in this other specific subject are stellar, so obviously they're just lazy and need to be whipped into shape via punishment.

the other option is that the kid's developmental disability is clocked by a teacher or counselor, or even their parents, and enough strings are pulled to get them evaluated by a school psychologist. then, they'll get dual-tracked into the gifted program and the special ed program, with classes divided along where their splinter skills and deficits lie. the special ed program is not actually a good place for disabled children and is incredibly traumatizing to be in.

either way, they come out of school with a significant amount of trauma. legitimate trauma. from being a disabled person in the public education system, which fucking sucks and is an awful experience i wouldn't wish on my worst enemy.

[winterdadandspiderson]

WINTERDAD AU #1

(part one because this got way too long. this is essentially the plot of an old fic i started back in 2020 and what would've happened of i'd continued it. i might try and write it again one day, perhaps, if i don't give up after 2 chapters. anyway here we go)

- mary parker was a shield agent when she met the winter soldier, both were on a mission. they fought, but never got as far as mortally wounding each other. mary would always slip away. it was like a game. bucky had been kept out the ice for a few weeks at that point, running a long job. but the longer he's out, the more he starts to remember little pieces, who he used to be.

- mary feels pity for him, seeing through the stone cold image hydra forged for him, to the person within. they fight. but then they also talk. they keep seeing each other while bucky scouts. eventually one thing leads to another and they develop a relationship of sorts. 

- mary later discovers she's pregnant but bucky never finds out. he's taken back, wiped and put under the ice once more. mary quits her job at shield so she can provide for her kid and keep them safe. knowing full well if anyone in shield or hydra caught wind that she was carrying the winter soldiers child, they'd never be safe.

- she's sad that bucky disappeared again, she knows hydra likely had him wiped and iced again. but she moves on, meeting richard soon after who she tells she's expecting a son, that the father disappeared without a word (technically not a lie) he tells her he'll love him like he's his regardless.

- when her son is born she names him peter james parker (during the few weeks they met, the last time they talked, bucky ended up remembering his first name, mary wanted peter to have at least a piece of him)

- peter ends up looking a LOT like bucky. he has the same shade of dark brown hair, facial structure which shows as he grows. but he has mary's eyes)

- the plane crash was really just an unfortunate incident. peter still goes to live with aunt may and uncle ben when he's seven. and then things go as they usually do in canon. the avengers form, yada yada all that stuff, you know the drill.

- when he's 14 peter is bitten by the radioactive spider. BUT. an important detail here is that due to the expiermentation bucky was subjected to by hydra and the enhancements which altered his genes, some of that, though remaining dormant, passed onto peter. but it didn't really do anything, it was just there. but it did keep him alive after the spider bite. without those enhancements in his blood peter would've died. instead, he gained his powers.

- uncle ben still gets shot, which as usual influences peter to become spider-man. and months after tony still comes along and recruits him to fight in germany. peter does.

- when he briefly faces bucky ("you have a metal arm? that is AWESOME, dude!") neither know so that also goes as normal. bucky is bewhildered by the kid who managed to block a hit with so much force behind it, while also shocked to know that he was just that, a kid.

- now one vastly different thing here is that while the avengers do split for a good year, steve and tony eventually talk and make amends. the avengers reassemble, deciding that they need to put the world before their feud. they're not on super good terms, but they tolerate each other. tony still refuses to forgive bucky.

- homecoming happens during the time where things are still rocky between the avengers so peter still deals with vulture alone. but he does see tony more often, stopping by for lab days to work on his suit among other things, to keep up the "internship" charade. tony grows fond of him, though he doesn't admit it.

its post homecoming where things start to go wrong.

#i wanted to keep mary as peter's mom because in a lot of the few winterdad fics i've read #his mom is always nat for some reason ??? so yeah. mary parker is still his mom. richard isn't his step dad he's the dad that stepped up #part two will probably be done by tomorrow! lmk what you think so far i'd love to hear your thoughts :)) #marvel #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #bucky barnes #peter parker #mary parker #winter soldier #the avengers #winterdad #spiderson #marvel au #mcu au #the winterdad au #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfic #oh also keeping the irondad dynamic in there because it adds to the conflict and plot <3

[i23kazu]

𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐄𝐁𝐆 !

welcome , welcome — its time for another round of ebg ! i'm really excited to host this round hehe, especially in celebration of 3.3k. i hope we have lots of fun – please play as fair and with as many people as you can ! try not to just stick with your own friend groups , this is an incredibly good time to try and get to know other genshinblrs . let's have lots of fun for this round ! please send each other sabotages too if you’re planning on playing :>

sign up form is here!

the signup form will close once we hit 25 participants ! check out the list of rules below !

𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒

the game will run from 19 to 26 january 2024 ! it will be hosted by me :)

participants are not allowed to interact with their original biases. their original biases do not exist to them during this game.

reblogging things with / directly responding to things that contain your original bias' / their name will incur a strike !

participants may reply to asks containing their original bias' name, but must not say it / describe the bias in any way.

sabotaging others who have the same bias is allowed , but you are not allowed to say the bias' name, or describe them in any way. they do not exist to you. if you can figure out a way to still sabotage someone who has them... you're most welcome to.

participants have 3 lives ! with each strike, one life dies. 3 strikes, and the player loses the game.

during this ebg, you can earn points by creating things about your assigned bias. (eg. if my assigned bias is kaeya, and if i write something for kaeya (200+ words), i'll get 500 points!)

tag me (@i23kazu) when you create something! i'll assign you your points. each piece of work is standard with 500 points. use the tag #genshinblr january ebg 2024 so that i can track it better !

players and non-players are allowed to sabotage each other with asks . a list with everybody's original biases will be released ! please go ham !

non-players, i am counting on you to help me check on the players !!!!

yes , you are allowed to reblog the original bias list post at the start of the game even though it has your og bias name on it . reblogging it midway through the game will earn you a strike .

url changes are not necessary , but theme changes ( if it has your original bias ) are ! players are given 24 hours to change their themes , if their original theme is of their original bias — only when the game starts . after the 24 hour limit is up , players who still have their original bias as their theme will earn a strike . if your original theme is not about your original bias, there is no need to change it .

players who lose the game will earn a forfeit that will have to be performed at the end of the event ♡

𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐒

500 points are awarded as a standard for each creation. for writing, it should be 200 words minimum, and for art, it should be lineart minimum. for edits, it'll be at my discretion! each piece should have some effort put into it – not just created for the sake of earning points .

players can use their points from creations to strike people ! each strike costs 1000 points . each player is limited to one earnable, redeemable , and giftable strike each day . just send me an ask to strike someone !

players will be able to spend 2000 points to heal themselves as well ! the heals have no limit per day – as long as you can fork up 2000 points, you get the heal !

for 2000 points , players can redeem one hour to be free from ebg , starting from the period of time when i approve the redemption . the hour is consecutive and cannot be split up into different periods . this one hour can only be redeemed ONCE in the entirety of the whole game , and has to be approved by me first before starting the period . if players start the hour without me knowing, they will earn a strike .

#[📍regular broadcast!] #reblogs appreciated ; even if you’re not playing! 🩷

[eluminium]

SKIZZ WEEK DAY 7. FINAL DAY. Well, okay I have to catch up on day 3 and day 6 BUT. STILL. DAY 7!!! this one got LONG again. I based this fic on that one scene from Skizz's episode 1 where Beef decides they're gonna spoon each other. Yeah.

As always, HUGE thanks to @skizzlemanweek for organizing this in the first place! It has been really fun to write for and the fact that it got me to write shit after like, 2 years of inactivity is insane. Huge props to them!!!

ANYWAYS! ONTO THE FINAL DAY!

Prompt 7: Free day!

-

Okay. Take some deep breaths, Skizz. It's not that big of a deal. You are fine! It's just being on THE Hermitcraft server with all the hermits as a hermit. That's just your average Tuesday for the Skizz- wait.

Void, he is on HERMITCRAFT. He's a HERMIT. FOR REAL. Is this real?! Or has he been dreaming or hallucinating?! His eyes dart around, and yep, those are hermits. Quickly, he pinches his arm. He lets go just as quickly with a squeak to boot when it's confirmed that this is real. He is a Hermit.

Now, he isn't the type of person to be nervous or scared. He thinks of himself as a pretty chill guy! He's Skizzleman. What dignity does he have to lose? However, maybe the fact he's not the type of guy to freak out means that because he's freaking out right now he has NO clue how to cope. He's so cool that he forgot how to deal! Agh, why now!?

"I'm gonna make a bed for our team, so we're gonna sleep in a communal bed, cuz there's only one right now." Someone- Oh it's Clebert!- comments while a newly crafted white bed appears next to the crafting table and furnace combo. It shakes Skizz out of his thoughts and back to the present, thank void. It's also a sweet reminder that just because he's on Hermitcraft doesn't mean he's a total stranger! In his mining team (what were they called again? Musterd Milktots? What is a milktot-) he's got Clebert and Tango Top! He knows them well! Then there's Doc, and he's hung out with Doc before! Like at the OlympZITS! And last, there's Beef! Who he….uh…Okay, he's never talked to Beef before. But how hard could it be? He'll charm his way into Beef's heart soon enough.

Speaking of the man, here he comes over the hills now! "I have a bed already. I have a bed!" he announces as he jogs over to use the crafting table. The sky behind him has faded to a soft yellowish orange as the sun sets on Skizz's first official day on Hermitcraft. Good thing they managed to make these beds in time!

Cleo seems to agree as she declares: "Oh okay! Now we can split up our sharing of the beds! That's cool!" While they speak, Tango appears behind them. He doesn't even acknowledge what just happened. The blaze man starts placing dirt around their little area to prepare for the night. Skizz giggles to himself. He's always task-focused, that guy.

As night starts falling, it dawns on Skizz that they only have two beds. And there are currently four of them. Doc disappeared somewhere, but he was told Doc tends to do that. Still, even with one less Milktot, they need to share beds in pairs or have one or two of them sleep on the ground. Well, he can do both! Nothing against a little snuggling with the homies!

"So, everyone under the covers?" He asks, looking between his fellow teammates. They also seem to have realized the situation and come to the same conclusion as him.

Their faces tell Skizz of the various levels of internal conflict occurring in this dirt hut. Tango doesn't seem very excited at all with the low burning flame on his head and a frown decorating his face. Cleo also wears a frown on her lips but a glint of understanding in her eyes. Once again, Skizz doesn't know Beef well enough to read him accurately, but he seems the most accepting out of the three. That's when it dawns on him that maybe not everyone is as comfortable with cuddling the homies. And now he feels like a dumbass for instantly jumping to that option. And he's the new guy, too! Void, this is going great so far!

Okay, how can he fix this? Maybe he can volunteer to sleep on the ground. Or he could invite Tango to a bed (god he's gonna get a headache from all these jokes he shouldn't make-!) since Tango knows him best and Skizz already has experience dealing with Tango's fire. Besides, they both have old man backs. If they sleep on the ground, they'll be incapacitated for days. And there's no way Tango should be allowed to do that, not on his watch!

But as he's turning towards Tango to make the offer, Beef unexpectedly grabs his gaze instead. Huh-?

"Skizz, you're mine~. Get in here, big boy," He growls in an overly sultry tone. Completely outta nowhere! So outta nowhere Skizz can't help but giggle at it.

Now, he recognizes what a bit is and realizes that it's probably an attempt by Beef to lighten the mood. So obviously, he's gotta keep it going! That's the one rule of improv, baby!

"Big spoon or little spoon?" He responds in a comedically deadpan tone while moving towards one of the beds. Cleo and Tango laugh at his theatrics, and the mood does indeed lighten. Mission success! He and Beef also chuckle a bit before Skizz moves between the beds and puts on a more serious face.

"Okay, for real though. How are we doing this? Are there some kind of Hermit rules around snuggling with your fellow Hermits I don't know about?" He asks the other three.

"No Skizz, I don't think we have rules about that. Although I don't know how…safe and comfortable it is to cuddlebear ol' Tango over here. With all the fire stuff and possible burnificating in your sleep," Tango responds honestly. Skizz rolls his eyes.

"Come on, Top. You're not that bad, dude! We've shared many a bed during Third Life, and Last Life, and Limited Life, and Secret Life-"

"Don't act like you weren't complaining in the morning! You were like: 'Ooo Tango I'm never cuddling with you again! This is awful, bleugh!'"

"That's because I got SWEATY from your crazy body heat! Not because I was on FIRE like you seem to be thinking!!!"

"Okay guys we get it, you're very affectionate with each other and it's cute, now lets get back to the point!" Cleo calls out to stop this madness before it escelates into a slap fight. Skizz and Tango both shut up in compliance.

"I have an idea!" Beef chimes in. All of them turn their eyes to him. They stay silent but nod at him to continue.

"Cleo, you can't really feel temperature, correct?" Beef asks, turning towards said Cleo.

"Yeah, being a zombie and all," Cleo answers with a shrug.

"So if you and Tango take one bed, we'll minimize the amount of…sweating happening. And, for you Cleo, it'll be easier to keep your body warm enough not to freeze up during the night!" Beef finishes off.

Tango and Cleo both contemplate this plan. It makes a lot of logical sense to split it up that way.

Cleo turns to Skizz. "Can you promise that he doesn't light up like a flamethrower? Don't get me wrong! I do like fire, just not ON me," She asks him. Tango makes some vaguely offended noises in the background despite the fact he was the one who brought it up.

"I promise you, Clebert! Top sleeps like a dead man. There's no way he'll light up at all. And if he does, dude, just kick him off the bed. It'll be funny," He answers with a smile and a wink. Then he laughs at the increased amount of offended Tango noises. They're just the best, okay!

"Alright I guess it's you and me, Tango. We'll sleep back to back, yeah?" Cleo gestures at Tango while she starts preparing the bed closest to them. Tango sounds like he agrees, but Skizz has already tuned them out to focus on his deal with Beef.

"So, I guess I was yours, huh?" He jokes as Beef joins him by the other bed.

"I guess so!" Beef cheers back.

For a second, they just stand there. Waiting for the other to make a move. …Maybe Skizz should give Beef the bed anyway. Skizz's the new guy, after all. He can't be making moves like this.

"Hey man, if this is really not your style, I'm fine with sleeping on the ground," He offers, meeting Beef's eyes. Said eyes light up in amusement, however.

"I think everyone in this hut knows that if anyone slept on the grass they'd wake up with a ton of back pain. We're all too old for that! Unless you'd feel uncomfortable, but I'll take a guess that you're not considering…you know." Beef reassures while patting Skizz on the back. He's right on that. It doesn't really bother Skizz…Then Beef's face morphs into one of contemplation.

"I was thinking more about how we're gonna fit in this bed," He continues, gesturing to said bed.

Oh, oh yeah. Second observation of the night. The bed is kinda small for them. They're both big, burly, broad men, for crying out loud. Unless they're going to connect like puzzle pieces, there is no way both of them are fitting in this bed.

Skizz smacks his lips. "Well, big guy. Either we snuggle up real close, or one of us ends up on the ground. You in?" He says bluntly, almost like a challenge.

Beef thinks about it before exclaiming: "I'm in," while lifting up the blanket. He then crawls in towards the opposite edge of the bed and lays sideways. Skizz has never been one to think too hard before doing something, so he crawls in next, and the great shuffling begins.

It's, well, not the easiest. Each time one of them moves an inch, something gets kicked, punched, or pushed. It's a miracle that they manage to avoid kneeing each other in the jewels. But eventually, they managed to settle into a comfortable position. What a blessing!

That blessing ends up being them curling their legs around each other like two strings of DNA, pressing together like a sandwich, and Beef's head resting on top of Skizz's, while Skizz almost has his face in Beef's mantits. It's not something Skizz thought would be included in his first day on Hermitcraft, but he isn't unhappy about it. Beef seems content, breathing a sigh of relief as they finally fit together. Afterward, he lets out some soft laughter that Skizz feels more than he hears.

"Welcome to Hermitcraft, Skizzleman. This has been your initiation ritual into this madness," He jokes, his log-like arms resting around Skizz's back.

"I think I'm gonna like this gig," He responds with a laugh before wiggling a little bit. He feels Beef smile into his hair. On the other side, the shuffling sound from Tango and Cleo ceases as well. After a long negotiation, everyone is finally comfortable.

"Goodnight, everyone," Skizz says.

"Goodnight." The others respond.

As silence falls on the Musterd Milktots dirt hut, Skizz feels the most relaxed in months. Beef is already drifting off based on his breathing, and soft snores are heard from the other side. As Skizz starts succumbing to sleep, he thinks:

"Yeah. I'm gonna love it here."

#skizzleman #skizz week 7 #skizz week #vintagebeef #zombiecleo #tangotek #my writing #hermitfic #WOO HOO LAST DAY #GOOD JOB TO EVERYONE WHO PARTICIPATED #YOU DID GREAT!!! #dose of skizz #dose of beef

[alastyr-not-alastair]

*breaks through your window*

Have you ever wondered how steves are born? i mean like, we all have our headcanons and many of them are pretty similar but who wants to hear mine now

well if you're still reading you probably want to

So this one i'm making specific to my fanfic Sins of the Forefathers (i promise guys im still working on it, i jsut wrote the first chapter without making an outline and now i actually have to write a whole story) just because I think it’s silly, there’s no real reason and I don’t think that it’ll end up being some major plot point or anything so I can share without spoilers!

currently there are 2 big headcanons around, 1 of them being from a bit that states that steves reproduce using diamonds, and the other one being that the energy around the place can gather into one spot until theres so much that it creates a new steve

theres also... mpreg but i'd rather NOT

so naturally i combined them

To create a child you will need a diamond and at least 2 parents that are (preferably) of the same colour! the parents need to pour in a considerable amount of their energy into the diamond to create a new steve, while the diamond acts as a sort of vessel to hold onto their power. if this was tried WITHOUT the diamond, the energy would just dissipate into the air.

This ritual leaves the parents depleted of their own energy, which is why sometimes there will be more than 2 parents, just so that the load is lighter for them. Typically, the energy split isn't 100% even, so one parent may have put in a slightly larger amount of their own energy, this usually leads to the kid being closer to that parent in shade and power type/level.

When theres a third parent introduced for the sole reason of allowing the first 2 to not have to lose so much energy, they typically only gve a small amount of their own. Not enough to influence the child but enough that the parents wont be left EXHAUSTED afterwards. When theres a third parent because they also want to be a parent and have a kid, its once again a mostly even split between all of them

This all continues no matter how many parents you introduce into the mix

now the diamond! as the energy is put into the diamond, the core of it starts to become almost like a star, a core that is keeping the energy circulating and moving inside of it until it starts to create a living being. From then on, the diamond acts as an egg.

the kid inside will slowly use up the diamonds carbon from the inside out, as the energy poured into them combines with the energy that the diamond is absorbing from the general area as well. The diamond will slowly start to slightly change colour and go opaque.

The closer that the diamond egg is to people, the faster it'll hatch simply due to it absorbing energy left in the air that people give off.

The core continues to eat away at the diamond from the inside as a steve forms in there. At this point of their lives they don't need to worry about any food or water or anything because of the fact that they're still only feeding off the energy in the universe.

Once enough energy has been absorbed, the diamond shell that's left over will start to crack and fracture. The cracks will be more like something is expanding out of it rather than just breaking out. The first crack will always be the loudest as it is when the most energy is let out. At that point the kid can come crawling out the diamond and BOOM! you have a child!

A couple thoughts more that i have that im not sure where to put in:

the steves are a carbon based race due to the fact that diamonds are entirely carbon

a new hatch will be like, the size of a large hand. They grow fast once they're out

the way they're made is quite literally like a new star, and that first crack is their supernova. they basically go through the life cycle of a star before they're even born

different colours can technically have children together but it doesn't always have the intended result. Most times the energy they pour in isnt compatible so it... makes the diamond blow up....

if they do manage to succeed, the kid will be one colour or the other, as the energy of the parent who poured less energy would slowly get converted into something the other parents is more compatible with

In the case of Rainbow Steve:

So he’s an unnatural abomination of a Steve, we all know that, right?

If you didn’t, you do now bc he’s canonically made of like 5 people

Rainbow Steve was in fact made the traditional egg way, but the outputs of the energy put into the diamond had to be made so precise it wouldn’t go one way or another. He would also then have been required to be put in an environment where all the outside energy would not influence what colour he turned out to be.

The way this was done was it was completed one person at a time. Each person first had to learn to manipulate their own energy into a spare vessel with a measuring tool in it, and once it was measured to be exactly 1/7th of the total energy they would all put in, they would have to carefully manipulate the energy in an environment where there’s no extra energy swirling around, and put that into the diamond

Rinse and repeat the process 7 times and you have a rainbow egg hopefully, which would then be carefully fed equal amounts of all energy in a sealed off room. Eventually Rainbow Steve would hatch from it and all the scientists would breath a collective sigh of relief

A pretty normal way to make him honestly, but the constant feeding of the egg exhausted the scientists pretty fast, so eventually they just made a filtering system that would store the energy they let off naturally and use that to give to the egg

Also all the scientists fell in love with each other during their time there, it’s canon I said so

#of course it’s canon they’re literally my ocs I can do what I want with them #i just think it’s neat #their biology is meant to be strange and confusing #light Steve is a whole other thing #he just appeared as a teen when rainbow was split apart bc of the over abundance of blue energy inside of Rainbow Steve #favremysabre #steve saga #rainbow steve #sins of the forefathers #headcanon #hcs

[afterhourswjay]

HI JAY! Ive been sick for like a week now so it got me wondering... how would Thoma Ayato Itto and wanderer take care of the reader when they are sick? (SFW, HEADCANON) I NEED THE MALEWIFE OR DOTING PARTNER ENERGY 😞😞😞😞❤️❤️❤️

Howdy, Kichi!! That sounds like it sucks! I'm also really, REALLY, sorry for how late this is!! I haven't had the motivation to write as of late (・・；) I've also been kinda sick myself

Drown in soup, but not literally

the reader is sick, and requires bedrest to get better. how does their partner help them out??

characters: Thoma, Ayato, Itto, and Wanderer warnings:

Thoma

goes full nurse on you

when he hears that your not feeling well, he immediately ushers you off to bed. you don't need to worry about any of your obligations, as he'll make sure to take care of them to the best of his ability

if you're sick with the flu, then he's making sure that your keeping food and fluids down

if you got a simple head cold, then he's not nearly as worried which is saying a lot

he really loves you and doesn't like the fact that theres only so much he can do to help you feel better

he gets really scared if your unable to keep stuff in your stomach

i feel like you'd be pretty good friends with ayato and ayaka, so they'd be more than willing to contact some of the best doctors on your behalf for some of the best medicine they can afford

ngl, he's super worried about you

if he notices your uncomfortable, tired, or really anything other than rested and comfortable, he'll try his best to help you out

do you need more pillows or blankets? are you hungry or thirsty? are you bored, perhaps??

makes you the best meal when your finally feeling better

probably takes you out for an evening walk as well, since you haven't really been moving while sick

definitely hovers around you a lot more for about a week or 2 after you've recovered before he eases up

he knows that getting sick is just part of life, and that it happens to everyone, but that doesn't mean he won't still worry about you

Kamisato Ayato

ngl, i feel like his attention is already split between all his responsibilities that he doesn't notice you feeling unwell at first

once he does notice, however, than he's ushering you off to rest for the time being

he doesn't want to see you trying to do any work until your feeling well

you two have been living together as a way to make it easier for him to protect you from any attempts at people trying to kidnap you for ransom

has the staff bring you anything you may need on days where he's particularly busy

he's not the best cook, either, so he has his staff cook the best foods for someone whos feeling under the weather

spends any of his spare time in your room with you

some times he'll even bring his paperwork in with him so that he can spend time with you but also get some stuff done hint: hes too worried about you to work on his stuff

your condition worsens into the flu before you start getting better

by the time your feeling better, you've pretty much got a mountain of blankets and pillows on your bed

he asks you what you want to eat a day or so after confirming with a doctor that you are officially recovered

Arataki Itto

you were taking a couple days off from taking commissions from the adventurers guild, deciding to spend it with your boyfriend arataki itto

the two of you were running around the whole of inazuma, collecting lavender melons and catching onikabuto beetles

you and itto had gotten caught in a downpour, having to book it across the beach to some makeshift and rather run down huts

why the two of you chose to come to koseki village, you'll never know

but, after the downpour passes, you two head back to your waverider and then back to inazuma city

wet clothes forgotten about due to the rest of the arataki gang having gotten into a little trouble with the guards, you proceed to talk to them while kuki shinobu chews out everyone

eventually, like. close to sundown, your able to make your way to your home to change out of your still damp clothes

you catch a cold the day after, having full body shivers

with practically no word from you for a few days has the whole gang worried for your wellbeing, and they practically break into your home

when you wake up, all bleary eyed from sleep, your met with the group surrounding your bed

after explaining you just have the chills, and are fine for the most part, the most of them leave to go do what they do most days

however, itto sticks around, keeping you company

he does also apologize for the fact that you got caught in the rain a few days ago

you immediately tell him that he has nothing to be sorry about, unless he can control the weather and intentionally made it downpour on the two of you

you then get out of bed, giving him a hug, and then meander off to your kitchen, asking him to help you make some soup

Wanderer

whenever you start being sucked down by depression, you tend to push yourself to work harder

and, often times, this leads you to neglecting your own needs

he may not be the best boyfriend, what with having to sort through his past and his feelings, but he does try his best

he's also hella observant. while he may not comment on everything, hardly anything is able to get past him

so, he makes a mental note every time you add another commission onto your growing list of commissions

he starts to grow annoyed with you when, instead of stopping to take a break for lunch that, you decide to just eat lunch on the way to your next commission

you don't really know what you did to upset him, but kuni seems to start making what your brain interprets as snide comments towards you sometimes

it isn't until your body decides to rebel against you and you fall sick when you realize that he wasn't really making snide comments towards you, thats just how your tired brain interpreted it

he was trying to warn you about pushing yourself to do more than what your body could handle

kuni doesn't really let you do anything until your recovered from being sick

he puts you back on a proper schedule, making sure you get 3 meals a day, all easy on your stomach as to not make you feel worse than you likely already are

he also puts you on a proper sleep schedule, making sure you get between 8-10 hours of sleep a night

kuni's surprisingly nice while your sick. he knows how much more sensitive you are to his usual comments during times like these so he saves the lectures for when your back to feeling 100% better

its ok, tho. he's back to being mean, and more than makes up for it by basically dragging you all over sumeru and inazuma for ascension materials

#jays thoughts #genshin impact headcanons #thoma headcanons #ayato headcanons #arataki itto headcanons #wanderer headcanons #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #thoma x reader #thoma x gn reader #ayato x reader #ayato x gn reader #arataki itto x reader #arataki itto x gn reader #wanderer x reader #wanderer x gn reader #wanderer is kunikuzushi #genshin impact reader has a vision #genshin impact readers vision not specified #genshin impact reader is not the traveler

[acourtofsnakes]

Ghosts Among Us - Freefall, Chapter 1 | The Bad Batch x Jedi!Reader

Summary: What happens when a team loses a part of themselves? What happens when the storm dies out and theres only wreckage left?

a/n: The chapters in this series are split into sections, Before and After. The before chapters are set during the Clone Wars, before TBB, with a slight AU.

I want to say a big thank you to @mylifeisactuallyamess for majorly boosting my Clone fixation, and encouraging me to write this. Thank you so so much, i am so grateful for this🥹

Warnings: Battles, fighting, threatening, mention of loss, all of my work is 18+. so do not read if you're a minor

I do not allow any of my work to be republished without my consent, that being said, reblogs and comments are much appreciated if you liked it!✨

Words: 2.6k

Series Masterlist | Series Playlist | Masterlist

Before 

Once again, The Bad Batch were in a situation that was risky, even by their standards.

Thrown deep in a fight with a group of Weequay pirates, mere minutes after crash landing in their ship… which they may have the cause of. There was still the possible threat of concussion lingering about each of them, but they’d fought with much worse injuries against much greater opponents.

Except, they weren’t usually this outnumbered. There was the initial group in front of them, firing relentlessly but some seconds ago, another group had appeared from nowhere and they were now being attacked from both angles in a pincer movement – like newbies. Like regs.

Hunter ducked behind a battered container, counting the blaster fire before he popped back up and fired off rounds of his own, working seamlessly with Echo beside him, “So, I say this went as well as everything else we do.”

Echo snorted softly, keen eyes tracking their opponents even as smoke began billowing across the small stretch of no man’s land, courtesy of the flaming debris all around them. “You’d think by this point we would stop making plans and just start acting on instinct.”

Wrecker's laugh echoed from behind them as he launched a handful of grenades through the air, punctuated by their explosions.

Hunter shook his head as the sounds echoed outside his helmet, “Isn’t that what we always do?”

Something suddenly danced along the back of Hunter’s neck, a whisper to those senses of his, the ones that felt things in the air, the ones that knew what was going to happen seconds before it did. Those senses which had saved their lives more times than he could count.

And now, those senses lifted their heads, almost purring when they felt the call coming in the air, the crackle of electricity before the sky exploded.

“Brother, you might want to recalculate that assessment.” Hunter slid his blasters back into the holsters on his thighs, taking a moment to roll his shoulders and crack his neck, all the while his skin tingled, and his instincts were becoming aware of something other.

To his left, Tech dodged a shot, quickly dropping to one knee to return fire with his own twin blasters, still drinking in the information that his goggles and visor provided to him, “I do not need to recalculate my assessment, Hunter. Based on the pincer movement we have somehow allowed ourselves to fall into, not to mention the advancement of our opposition, even Wrecker can tell you that we are outnumbered.” A flash of irritation lined his words, hackles raised at the insinuation his knowledge was incorrect.

Hunter opened his mouth to explain, but Wrecker had beaten him to it with a lot of indignation, “Hey! What’s that ‘sposed to mean?!” He picked up a discarded container, one they had been previously using for cover and launched it across the open space – to then be met with a solid, resounding thunk as it wiped out several pirates.

With a shake of his head, he turned away, letting the sounds of his brothers bickering fade into the background as he looked out across the battle, head ticking over escape routes, constantly reworking them, weak points, their weak points – even though he knew he didn’t need to. Not for much longer.

The smoke was still flooding the clearing, obscuring everything to the point where he doubted even Crosshair would have managed a clear shot.

The air went still. Silent. A single beat of nothingness, of waiting and anticipation. A held breath, a paused heartbeat.

And then the smoke exploded into light and chaos and vengeance.

Ghost.

Two gleaming arcs of white light cut through the haze, seemingly dropping to the ground in front of them from nowhere. They were all that could be seen, one held in front, one behind, in that trademark grip.

“Boys, must I rescue you all the time?” Your voice danced through the smoke, light and teasing, that undercurrent of affectionate laughter that you always had when you were with them – and yet, Hunter knew you were three seconds away from turning into the fierce, untouchable warrior you were renowned for being.

“I am going to give you three seconds to take your bottom-feeding scum out of this clearing whilst you still have some semblance of dignity left. If you can even call it that.” You scoffed, still just a phantom voice in the wind, just like the nickname they had given you when you wished to shed the pain of your old life, “You may believe that I’ll simply disarm you and ship you off for a trial, but that is not my way.” Those sabers lifted higher, as if signifying just why they gleamed as white as the stars, carrying no colour or loyalty to a side.

Neither light, nor dark, but the in-between.

The very air itself seemed to hold, even as his brothers lowered their weapons, knowing this fight was pretty much over, that the tables had turned and they were about to watch something magnificent and deadly.

“Not only did you hurt the lives of innocents and were willing to trade them… You tried to hurt my friends.” Now your voice changed, the laughter slipping from it only to be replaced with something sharper than the edge of his vibro-knife, “And no-one hurts my friends.”

Three.

There was a near-silent whisper in the air before the smoke folded in on itself from the middle, sweeping outwards toward the trees like a parting sea. It left the clearing free of obstruction, revealing scorched ground, smoking remains of the downed cargo ship and the amount of pirates surrounding them.

Tech had been right, they were outnumbered.

Two.

Standing before the Batch, your posture was almost that of a dancer, one foot poised in front of the other, weight centered, energy coiled and ready to spring for the throats of any who dared hurt your boys.

Your eyes were fixed solidly on the leader across the way, lips tilted up in a challenging smile that was all teeth and smoke, white light dancing across your face. Something other. Something beautiful.

One.

~~

“You think we can salvage any of this to take back to Cid?” Wrecker trudged through the debris and rubble, his helmet resting on the top of his head like always. He kicked aside some still smouldering piles of metal, making a curious noise at something gleaming in the ashes. 

Echo was next to him, surveying the mess around them, “It could take some time to comb through the rubble. Besides, Cid didn’t even tell us what we were meant to be looking for anyway.” He huffed, carrying his helmet under his arm. 

The conversations were a gentle hum in the background as you breathed out slowly through parted lips, trying to soothe that cracking energy still wild in your blood. 

Whenever you indulged it, it was always an effort to wrangle back under control. It had spent so many years having to be restrained, years after being ripped from you and manipulated - it wanted out, it wanted freedom. 

You could hardly blame it, it was only the words and memories that forced you to take these moments, these breathers to try and calm the sparks in your blood. Really, you’d much rather let it be free, let yourself feel. Your boys had tried to encourage as much, but when you let that side go… people got hurt. Badly. 

“I am reading that your heart rate and breathing levels are spiking rather than settling down. Can I assume that your meditation isn’t having the desired effect?” Tech’s calm voice filtered through the impending panic, encouraging you to open your eyes and look up at him from your spot on the grass. He looked down at you through his goggles, trusty datapad dangling from his hand and his helmet tucked under the other. 

You chuckled a little, letting out a soft sigh afterwards, “That would be a very correct assumption, Tech.” Looking between his eyes, you allowed your Force connection to instead reach for him, cocking its head like a curious Loth cat, purring in response to a familiar companion, “I think it’s because they always used meditation as a way to keep me still, calm. I’m not… I’ve never been able to be still. I have to move in some way or I’ll go insane.” Reaching out, you patted the floor next to you as an invite. 

Tech hesitated for a moment, his hand coming up to push his goggles up before he seemed to decide it was okay. He dropped gracefully down beside you, crossing his legs. There was still some space between you both, but you were closeted all the same, and hoped he was too. 

No part of you touched, but you felt his closeness as if you were, “I understand what you mean. I have been told that I always move, too. Apparently I have a twitch in my leg whenever I have to be still, I’ve been to medical centres to get it assessed but there is nothing wrong with me. It’s just… part of me, I suppose you could say.” He shrugged lightly, even as he toyed with his datapad, uncomfortable with the idea that there was no solid answer. 

You looked over at him for a moment, nodding lightly, “I always got told the same thing when we were being taught how to meditate. I needed to stop tapping, needing to stop counting the patterns on the walls and close my eyes.” With a soft shake of your head, you returned to looking out at the landscape. 

Tech watched you, goggles flickering with the usual information;

Your heart rate, calm, if slightly elevated. Breathing, easy. Body temperature, between the appropriate levels for someone of your genetic makeup - Jedi. You were healthy. Unhurt, aside from some minor bruising. 

His keen honey-ringed eyes noted how you picked at the grass, pulling the strands and winding them around your fingers, like you weren’t even aware you were doing it. He’d always noticed this behaviour, of course he had, but it never clicked that you both shared that subconscious action. A stim, he’d once heard it called. 

You were both quiet for a moment, listening to the sounds of the others a little ways behind you both. Then Tech spoke up again, “In some ways, you are defective. Like us. You don’t fit the mould of what a Jedi is meant to be, the typical behaviours they expect.” His voice was even, definitive. He wasn’t being rude, he was just being factual and straightforward. 

It was one of the things you respected in him, the ability to always tell it the way it is, no sugarcoating, no half-truths. And this was the truth. 

You chuckled a little again, a soft hum in your throat, “You’re right, Tech. Of course you are.” A slight shrug lifted your shoulders, “I never followed exactly what they expected from me… I guess I was a lot like Anakin in that way. They often didn’t know what to do with me.” Your smile fell at the mention of your old friend, someone you cherished as closely as a brother. The pain never grew any easier, and if anything it just burrowed deeper. 

You took a deep breath, trying to clear it and keep your mind light, “Sometimes I wonder if Rex saw my… defectiveness. And that’s why he pushed so hard for me to be on that mission on Anaxes.”

“He knew you needed us.” Tech spoke almost before you finished talking, taking a second before looking over at you through his goggles, “And that… we needed you.” 

That resonated deep in you, hitting something that was broken but mending. They needed you. Of course you might have joked about it but… for them to say it, for Tech to say it… it made your throat close up, even just a little. 

You took a second, let that comment settle inside you before saying softly, but not weakly, “Thank you, Tech. I do need you.” Carefully, slowly so he could move away, you bumped your knee to his. 

Tech looked down at the movement, blinking those big brown eyes. You saw him tense just a fraction, just a little but he didn’t move. 

The two of you sat in a peaceful silence together, watching the birds fly in the distance, the smoke dissipating through the sky and dissolving in the clouds. 

Some time later, when the hum of the Marauders engines broke the peaceful ambience, Tech got to his feet smoothly, brushing down his armour. 

You watched him, waiting for him to rise before you moved yourself in case you startled him but then…

Then he extended his hand to you, almost without thinking, “Come, Ghost. I believe it’s time to head home.” He was looking at you with a smile playing about his lips, his helmet now under the same arm as he was holding his datapad. 

Okay. 

You knew not to make a fuss over it, not to bring attention to the fact he was offering you a hand up. Because it wasn’t that he didn’t like touch, it was more he didn’t like it with no warning or permission, not after all those years on Kamino. 

So, instead, you slide your hand into his, allowing him to pull you easily to your feet, before brushing off your own clothes. “Thank you.” You looked back toward the Marauder, “I hope Cid has food, I’m starving.”

Tech laughed slightly, letting go of your hand when you were safely up, “Oh, I think she knows to have it ready, especially when Wrecker comes back.” 

“Hey!!!” 

Stars, it was good to be home. 

After

People always talk about the calm after the storm. The moment where everything settles down, where the wind stops raging, the clouds stop churning, the sky stops turning to fire. They talk about peace and serenity. 

What they don’t talk about, is the absence of everything. The absence of that ferocious beauty. 

The silence. The desolation. 

The Marauder felt like it had the soul sucked out of it. The parlour felt darker, dimmer than before. 

Tech’s infodumps about his research were stinted, cut off. 

Wrecker didn’t smile as much, didn’t play around like he used to. 

Hunter was even more stoic than usual, jaw permanently wound tight enough to snap. He pushed them harder, faster, took any job Cid threw their way, no matter the danger or the risk. He didn’t care anymore. 

Echo was even more silent, eyes heavy, head full of memories that your peace couldn’t chase away. His nightmares were back too. 

All of them were struggling to sleep. 

The Bad Batch had lost that wild storm, the living, breathing energy that wove between them all, brought them closer, made them fiercer, stronger. 

They had let you slip from right under their hands, like blood from a wound that would never heal. 

You were gone, taken, lost. 

They’d searched high and low, every corner of every dark pit of the planets you’d frequented - and ones you hadn’t. 

Gone, without a trace. Like you’d never been there at all, like you’d been erased the way history had dictated you and everyone else like you should have been. 

But you were a fighter, like them. You clung to life with all the determination and wicked strength you showed everyday. 

You would never give up on them. You’d tear the galaxy to shreds to look for them. 

And they would do the same. Every last scrap of the galaxy, every last molecule. 

They’d burn it all to find you. And that is exactly what they were going to do. 

#the bad batch #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch hunter #tbb hunter #the bad batch tech #tbb tech #the bad batch crosshair #tbb crosshair #the bad batch wrecker #tbb wrecker #the bad batch echo #tbb echo #tbb hunter x reader #tbb crosshair x reader #series masterlist #the clone wars #star wars

[farfromstrange]

Butterfly Effect | Michael Kinsella x Reader

Masterlist

Chapter 2: Butterfly Pea Flower On Ice

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Barista!Reader (afab)

Summary: Michael has a rough night. When he finds his way to you after only barely keeping himself from making a mistake, he’s miserable and you are… well, he’s not quite sure what you are, but it involves two rusty nails and a wooden sign that just won’t stay where it is, so in need for a distraction and slightly worried about you, he decides to help you out. You reward him by making him yet another extraordinary coffee drink from the menu. Or, you make another sneaky move at Michael after he’s so kind to help you out, hoping he will someday act on your hopeless flirt attempts.

Warnings: Angst (18+ MINORS DNI), past trauma, self-harm, blood, panic attack, Mikey just hates himself, but then there’s some fluff, bad flirting, attempt at humor, and then some angst again.

Word Count: 7.7k

A/n: This time, I dive more into Michael’s mental state. So this is angsty, then he gets some comfort from you, but then it gets angsty again because well, it’s Mikey. He’s stuck in an endless cycle, it seems. I feel so bad for him… but at least he gets a lil' hug?? I hope you like it!

Read Part 1 Here...

His sleep is restless. The memories cage him in like a wild animal. One second, he can breathe, the next the world around him turns into a blur and the oxygen in his lungs gets lost. It’s like someone is sitting on his chest and he can’t escape their claws as they tear him to shreds. 

He wakes up drenched in sweat and tears. The sheets stick to his clammy skin. On weak knees, he makes his way to the bathroom. The floor seems to disappear as his past pulls it out from under him. 

Pictures flash across his mind. His thoughts start a downward spiral again, one he can’t seem to stop. He’s panting, pathetically so. The cold water he splashes on his face does little to soothe the burning ache that seems to burn through every nerve like acid. 

Michael clings to the edge of the sink. He wants to shut it off; he wants to stop thinking. He wants to stop remembering. He wants to stop being him. The things he did… every time he closes his eyes, he sees the blood that once covered the floor of his apartment, the bullet holes in the walls. He thinks of Anna. It’s his fault she lost her mother. It’s his fault she’s traumatized. All of it – all of it, his fault. 

As he stares at himself in the mirror, he finds only a shell staring back at him. So many people have tried telling him that he’s the victim, that perhaps he is sick, but the only sick thing about him is his mind, and he feels entirely responsible for that.

His fist lands in the glass of the mirror. It cracks. The glass is thin and the shards instantly scratch the surface of his knuckles, some of them digging into the skin and painting the sink beneath him red with his blood. 

Only when the sharp pain reaches his consciousness, Michael finds a way back to himself. He stares at the split skin, watches the blood pool out of the wounds, and the tremor turns into a quiver of shock. It burns, but it burns so good. 

He catches the blood with a towel. The first-aid kit isn’t far. Though for a second he considers if he should even allow himself to do so. The pain reminds him that he is alive, and the blood writes a poem on the tiles. A poem of hate, broken love, and self-destruction. There is no hope, only pain, and the blood is a reminder of that. He may be only human, but all the destruction in his life, he caused himself. His blood is a reminder that no one controls him quite like himself, even though he likes to blame it on his surname.

A few doors down, the light at Jimmy’s and Amanda’s place is still on, though they don’t hear the ear-piercing scream that passes Michael’s lips and leaves him crying on the bathroom floor. It’s something they don’t know and he wishes they never have to see. He’s broken, maybe even beyond repair, and he has no one to blame but himself, and that makes him even more miserable.

The pain eats him alive, slowly but steadily. He can’t move, he can’t speak, he can’t breathe. His hand is bandaged now, though only poorly. There is not much more he can take. The tiles are cold, but he can barely feel them. The scream still echoes minutes later, and his voice sounds deafening in his ears.

He just wants this to stop.

As the pictures start flashing slower, the blood loss and fatigue settling into his bones, he remains on the floor. He doesn’t have the strength to get back up. His tears stain his cheeks and wet his beard, and the blood from his knuckles starts seeping through the bandage and back onto the floor. He can’t be bothered to clean any of it. 

His eyes flutter, but he doesn’t fall asleep. He’s not sure what state he is in, but he’s not alive. He can’t be alive. Everything’s surreal. The pain hit him hard and now he feels nothing. In a matter of a few seconds, everything stops and he becomes numb, but the numbness hurts even more, and that makes him scream until he has no voice left. And then he gets quiet again. 

Ever quiet, and shy Michael who’s only like this because he doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know what to say because he’s scared of himself, and it’s best to keep himself locked away than hurt someone he cares about again. He loves his family, but this is his future he’s talking about, and his daughter… Anna needs a father, and he’s failed her before. He doesn’t want to be the same failure anymore, even though he knows that by lying on the floor and forcing himself to bleed out a wound he inflicted on himself, he has already failed her again because he just wants to give up. And he’s starting to think that there might not be much more he can do, anyway.

Michael wallows until the sun comes up, then he gets up as if nothing happened. 

He sits in a restaurant for a while, staring out of the window. Anna looks so much older now than when he left her. She reminds him of her mother. With her uniform and her little backpack, she walks across the street Michael is observing, heading toward the school that is hiding behind the trees. 

She always takes the bus from home. Home with her grandma, he knows. But that’s not where she should be. She should be home with him. She probably doesn’t even know he’s out yet, and he’s not sure if he wants her to find out before he can even account for the fact that he’s made changes. 

He needs to get a job, get his life back on track, and fight for her. He’s sworn himself as much. But as he watches her walk past him without even looking through the window of the restaurant, his heart aches and it breaks because damn it, what was he thinking? He’s her father, but she barely knows him, and he’s far from being a good father figure. He’s not sure he can ever be. 

Paying for his one black coffee, Michael heads out. The cold air hits him. He shivers. He’s not freezing, not at all. Truth hurts, and he hates that it does. It makes him feel so small, and useless like he can’t achieve anything other than cause chaos. And the worst part is, he is completely and utterly alone in this. 

His feet carry him down a familiar street until he stops in front of the same place he sought solace in the day before.

You’re rearranging the lunch offers sign right by the door, not even noticing that he’s standing on the other side of the street, observing your every movement. 

Michael hesitates. It’s not a good idea, but his apartment feels suffocating and he can’t talk to his family because they don’t understand. They know he wants his daughter back, they just don’t understand the sacrifices he’s willing to make, that he has to make, and he doesn’t want to find himself in the same shit position again that even led him to this point eight years ago. 

This is where he lands, the Butterfly Effect café and he can’t quite believe his eyes that you’re truly there. 

He still has the empty coffee cup from the day before standing on the dining table at home. 

You’re completely oblivious to his presence. Instead, you turn back around and walk back behind the counter. 

The café isn’t busy yet. You have just opened your doors, and since you’re on the early bird shift today, your job is to prepare everything and make sure everything’s perfect by the time the first batch of customers comes around. The coffee machines are all working, the plants have been watered, and the display with your baked goods is up and ready. Except for the sign with the menu above your head. 

Every last drink was handwritten by you, and the place is perfect, right where everyone can see it. You had to do a few minor changes before opening and decided to take it down to make the chalk letters look their best. Ever since then, you haven’t been able to get it back up. The wood is hanging on by a last nail, but you can’t seem to reach it without a proper ladder – you’re currently kneeling on a very high counter – and to you, it seems straight until you move away and it no longer does, and the fact that the sign keeps slipping infuriates you. If you can’t keep it up there, you have to find another way and then the aesthetic will be ruined. And your boss will murder you, so you have to try, but every time you try, you find yourself beaten again. 

It’s you against a wooden board that’s been written on with chalk and a few rusty nails. You’ve mastered harder tasks. Yet, you keep failing.  

You take another step back and look at the sign. It’s still tilted slightly to the right, and keeping it up there might be considered a hazard with how unsafe it looks. 

The ringing of the bell above the door goes right over your head. You’re too frustrated to focus. If someone wanted to steal the register, they might as well have succeeded. 

“That’s a bit wonky,” a voice pipes up behind you. 

You jump. You had gotten so used to the silence of being alone in the café, you forgot that you opened the doors to the public before you started struggling with the sign. 

You almost fall off the counter when you turn to look at him. “Jesus!” you curse. 

Michael takes an instinctive step forward. He’s not close enough to catch you, but he likes to think he is. He could get behind the counter and make sure you don’t trip and break your neck, but that would be pushing boundaries he doesn’t like. 

“Careful,” he says. 

“I’m alright.” You pray to the rusty nail to hold the sign for long enough so you can serve him – he’s here for coffee, right? “I was just trying to fix the sign, but seems like it can’t be fixed.” You throw your hands up. “This day is going majorly well!”

He looks back at you, the broken expression that has yearned for an escape replaced by a flicker of regret. He walked the streets of the new yet familiar prison that has become his life to get here. He got out, but he hasn’t been able to come home; he wonders if he can even come home when there is no actual home to come back to. Everything feels so strange now, even the walls he’s living in. They hurt the most of them all.

“I can go if this isn’t the right time.” The last thing he wants is to be an inconvenience. He shifts his weight onto his heels, ready to turn around and run. “This was a bad idea,” he murmurs, his eyebrows furrowing close enough to form a deep crease between them, “Sorry.”

You stop and stare at him, your brain processing his face and his words at the same time. He’s wearing a different sweater underneath his jacket today. It’s crinkled and in need of some ironing, but he doesn’t seem to care much. 

You see his mind making the decision to leave for whatever reason that you can’t tell, and you reach out. “No!” you’re quick to say. 

Something tells you letting him go is a bad idea, and not just because he’s a possible paying customer. There is a reason you wrote the note on his coffee cup the other day and it has never wavered. It persists. You’re surprised to see him, sure, but you also remember telling him to come back someday, and he did. 

Your words sound a little more desperate than you intended them to. 

There is something different about him today. His eyes are sunken; he looks like he hasn’t slept all night, or he didn’t sleep well, at least. You feel a bubble of concern grow in your chest and spread through your entire body. Like the roots of a tree that wrap around anything they can find. It makes its home there. 

Michael stops when you say, “You don’t have to leave. This is an open café.”

He turns back to you, his expression unreadable. He was an easier book to decipher before, now he just seems cold. There is a fire burning bright inside of him and he is about to implode, but he tries so hard to hide it, you can’t see behind the iron curtain he has lowered around himself. He craves coffee, which is why his feet carried him to you, but he also needs more. He hates that he needs more. He hates that he doesn’t know what he needs, but he can’t be alone. He’s lost. He’s all of that and yet it doesn’t even cut close. 

The tears weigh heavy behind his eyes. They’re glossed over from the strain it takes for him to stop himself from crying, he has been doing so ever since he laid eyes on Anna only a few minutes ago. He knows what he wants, but he is helpless to get it. It’s a particular kind of pain, not many people can understand, and he can’t describe it, but it’s awful, and it breaks his heart all over again, every damn day. Today has been a lot, and the day is just getting started. He’s not sure how long he can survive this before losing himself. 

Fighting is so much harder when you always seem to lose. 

You watch him, your fingers fidgeting nervously before you. You often know what to say, but right now, your mind is wiped clean. “You came back,” you eventually speak up. 

He smiles, his demeanor reserved but somehow he looks relieved when he hears you talk like that again – kind, understanding, and calm. You’re the only calm thing in his vicinity, and just for a moment, the tornado in his heart transitions into merely a hurricane. The café is empty besides him and you, and part of the stress on his shoulders seems to ease just a little.

“Michael, was it?”

He nods. “Yeah.” 

You even remember his name.

A smile finds its way onto your face. You try not to let the nerves show, or the fact that you’re overwhelmed and flustered. You’re a mess, and today it doesn’t exactly feel like you can stand by it. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just… I remember your order. I’m not stalking you or anything, but I remember recommending the toffee nut latte to you,” you say, trying to explain yourself somehow, even though he looks nowhere near as uncomfortable with the conversation as you do. “I thought maybe… maybe that’s why you came back.”

Or because of the note, you think to yourself. Hope always dies last. You almost feel bad for assuming because looking at him, he doesn’t look okay, and you’re utterly selfish for wanting this to be about you. This is about him. It should be. You’re no expert, but you’ve seen your fair share of people in pain, mentally and physically, and he might as well fit into both categories. 

You just don’t understand, and it stresses you out. You usually don’t let men stress you out, they’re often not worth it and they use your kind heart for what it is, but Michael has a way of getting under your skin without even trying. Once again, it adds to the stress. It’s a stress you can’t pinpoint because it results in inner turmoil and confusion that drives you up the walls. 

“Yeah,” he’s even quieter than the day before. 

You’re not sure if he means, “Yeah, that’s why I came back.” Or, “Yes, that’s who I am but that’s not why I came.”

You tilt your head, trying not to prod him with the questions that are burning inside of you. “Did you like it?” you ask. “Or are you here to tell me it sucked and you’re never coming back here?”

The waters you’re treading are dangerous. 

“No, I liked it. I–“ 

Your eyes light up. “Yes?” 

“Yeah, it was grand. I just–“ A lot is going on in his head, and he can’t sort it. You’re smiling at him and he’s reminded of the day before, but then he thinks about what happened after that, late at night and the early hours of the morning, and his knuckles start to throb with the cruel reminder.

What is he doing? Why is he here? Why is he so desperate for something he doesn’t even understand? 

You eye him again. Etched into his features, the frown only deepens. There’s not much difference about him physically, but the sun is out today and he still looks like it’s been raining in his heart for years. It breaks you and you don’t even know him. He avoids eye contact, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans. You can tell he’s trying to say something but at the same time stay silent because he’s scared. Why, you don’t know.

You wipe your hands on your apron and take another step forward. “Okay,” you murmur. “Can I help you with anything?”

Your voice is oh so soft. He sucks in a sharp breath. The sound caresses his cheeks, but the touch burns. He feels like he is Lucifer on his way to hell. 

“Coffee, maybe?” You’re trying hard to elicit some sort of reaction out of him, to get a sense of what he’s feeling and what you can do to make his day because quite frankly, if he was here because of the note, he would have mentioned it by now.

Maybe he’s seeking comfort, and you’d be the last person not to help a person in need out.

The sign above your head creaks. There is a God, after all, Michael thinks. He looks up at the contraption you failed to save before.

“Looks dangerous,” he states, skillfully avoiding your other question.

You follow the direction of his finger – it’s his uninjured hand. “Yeah, the nails are rusty and it just won’t stay in place, but I don’t have any nails here to fix it,” you say.

He nods. “Do ya have a hammer?”

“What?”

“Just answer the question.”

You blink in surprise at his assertive tone. It’s not particularly harsh, but it also leaves no room for you to argue. Something dark flashes in his eyes, which is instantly replaced by a fear of having gone too far. His lips part to apologize. 

“I have a hammer,” you say, and you try to smile enough to ease his conscience. 

You’re used to customers being rude to you, and Michael isn’t rude, you would never consider the tone of his voice anything near that, at least not with you; he caught you off guard, that’s all. He sounds so confident when he wants to. He would make a great leader, you’re sure.

It’s not fear that spreads through your veins, you hope he realizes that. You’re even more intrigued now, and maybe you’re a little excited, too. You’re not sure, you know you shouldn’t be, but there is something about his voice and the sharpness of his words that send a shiver down your spine, and it lands right where your legs cross below what he can see on his side of the counter. 

He tries to return your smile as much as he can. “Let me fix it for ya,” he says. 

You stammer, “Fix it?”

“Yeah.”

The suggestion is a helpful one, and under any other circumstance, you would have said it’s sweet, but this is your workplace and he’s a customer. You’re not allowed to let anyone beyond the small bullpen that separates you and him. If this had been your home or any other place with a wonky sign and not the job you’re dependent on to survive, you wouldn’t have hesitated to say yes. 

“I think I know how to fix it,” Michael tells you, “Ya just have to let me try.”

He hardly gets to fix anything. It’s just a sign, but it seems like something he is good at and he doesn’t want you to be frustrated or scared of losing your job anymore. He wants to help. He wants to feel useful. He wants the day to feel less like a waste of his existence and more like he’s making a difference, and an act of kindness that you are in desperate need of feels right to him. 

Though when he notices that you’re hesitating, he is about ready to retreat into his shell and bury himself so deep, no one can find him anymore. 

You scratch the back of your head. “I don’t know,” you admit. “You get that if something happens to you, I’ll lose my job, right? It has something to do with insurance and the general policy or something. I signed a contract. It’s complicated. I… I love this job. I need it.”

The sign creaks again. He sighs. “What if it drops on yer head?”

Looking behind you, the nail on the right is moving another millimeter downward. 

The inside of your cheek is bleeding now from how hard you’re biting down on it. You shouldn’t let the thought of him coming closer to you and pretty much saving your ass and allowing you to maybe get to know him a little better drive you, but it does anyway. Sometimes, you tend to be a little reckless, and Michael brings it out in you. 

“Now, will ya let me take a look at it or are ya too damn proud to admit ya need help?”

He’s one to talk.

Fuck it, you think. If the sign falls and destroys all of the equipment below, it’s your neck they’re going to have for the accident anyway because you know it’s loose, but you would have kept it like that if Michael hadn't popped out of nowhere. You don’t even know the guy, but his offer to help is something you can’t turn down. Besides, you’re desperate and know the first regulars will start coming in soon, so time is of the essence. You can’t fix the sign and serve customers at the same time. You’re not a robot, and your colleague’s shift starts in an hour, so you’re alone until then. 

Michael is the only beacon of hope to get you through the day with all of your limbs still intact.  

With a hesitant nod, you give him the go-ahead. “You can take a look at it if you want,” you say.

“Thanks,” he says. 

It’s different to see him fully. He discards his jacket, pulling the sleeves of his sweater up. He’s wearing a T-shirt underneath. A gray one. You try not to stare too much, but his right forearm and the tattoos that litter his skin quickly catch your attention. And he’s taller now that he’s standing almost entirely in front of you. 

He meets your eyes. Your skin flushes a soft pink, but you can’t look away. He has a hold on you. He’s got you under his spell. His brown eyes look like honey in the sunlight, and the specks of green remind you of an enchanted forest. An ancient tree, maybe. His hair is dark, but whenever the light shines on it, it seems to sparkle just a little lighter. You feel like a psycho with the way you’re staring, but as you meet his eyes, you notice you’re not the only one. 

Michael can’t help it, the way his eyes roam so effortlessly over your body. The apron you’re wearing is black, and you’ve changed the butterfly clip, but the look is the same. You’re wearing a dress today and a pair of sneakers. Your hair is tied up half like the day before, the shiny locks cascading down your back. The color of your eyes seems to reflect in the sunlight, and there is a glow on your face that doesn’t get overshadowed, not even when you feel frustrated. 

Like the idiot you are, you extend your hand and decide to introduce yourself properly. You tell him your name, your eyes hopeful enough. 

Hesitantly, he takes your hand into his injured one. The bandage feels weird against your skin, and your eyes widen a little. His hand didn’t look like that when you first met him. 

“Michael,” he says.

“Nice to meet you,” you say, then look back down at his hand that is still in yours. His grip is firm yet gentle, but you can feel the warmth of the injury under your fingers. “What happened to your hand?” you add. It’s a daring question, but you’re nothing if not curious. 

He pulls back, hiding his hand behind his back again. “Had a wee accident, nothing serious. I’m a’right.”

The second he pulls back, you feel a sharp pang in your chest. You feel like you’ve scared him away now. “Oh. I’m sorry…”

“It’s fine. Could ya just give me that hammer so I can do my job?”

You nod, rummaging through the drawer next to the coffee maker for the small hammer you keep around for the smaller signs that often switch places in the café. You meet his eyes when you hand it over, but he only briefly brushes you before pulling the ladder you use to reach the spare mugs on the highest shelf above you in front of himself, and he climbs on top of it. 

Michael removes the sign with ease, examining the nails on either side. They’re both rusty and the holes in the walls have expanded over time, but he sees no reason to change them right away. He flicks the right one with his finger and pushes it in a little further, changing the angle of the impact. It doesn’t budge. 

“Hm,” he murmurs to himself before turning back to you. You’re watching him like a hawk.

“And?” you ask, part of you now terrified of being completely fucked in more ways than one, and none of it the good kind. 

He offers you a small smile. “You’ve got customers coming in.”

The bell above the door rings. 

You sigh. “Great.”

“I’ve got it,” he assures you. 

“If you fall and break your neck—”

His smile turns into a chuckle. “I won’t.” Then, he turns back around and starts gently hitting the nail on its rusty head with the hammer. 

You have no choice but to serve the couple that has come in. If Michael knows what he’s doing, you have nothing to worry about, but you can’t help stealing the occasional glance at him as you brew the coffee and manually steam some milk for the woman’s latte. You don’t even try selling any of the new drinks on the menu since it feels wrong to offer diversity when the back of the counter looks like a construction site, but they seem happy and satisfied when you offer them a free butterfly cookie – because on Tuesdays, there are always free cookies. They find their place somewhere in the café and you just pray they’re satisfied enough to keep quiet about the sign.

It’s not even a big deal, you know that. It happens to the best people, and you’re just a barista in an under-staffed, very loved café in a part of Dublin that is known for destroying every small business it can find and plastering the name of an overpriced franchise on it, or simply tearing down the building and replace it with something else entirely. That’s why you can’t afford mishaps. You need this job, you need to find your footing elsewhere before you can even think about quitting, and you need the Butterfly Effect to stay popular so you won’t get another identity crisis and lose not only your job but the entire café as well. You’re an overthinker, and it’s exhausting to be scared all the time, but you can’t help it when the reality of your situation is what it is. And it’s very real. You’re happy and you have enough money to survive. That can’t change, not until you’ve finally got the means to make your other dreams come true and you can leave the past behind. 

That might take some time, but you need the time, too. And you know everyone else you work with thinks the same. You can’t blame them. No one can. 

You stop sulking to look up, and it’s then that Michael puts the sign with the menu back up. It’s as straight as it was before, if not more. You quickly swallow your sip of water and put the bottle away, staring at him and his handiwork with a mixture of surprise and awe written all over your face. 

“No way,” you breathe. 

He gets off the ladder, satisfied with what he managed to do, and then he turns to you to get your approval. Your smile is answer enough. 

“I managed to get the nails further in,” he says, “but ya need to get them switched out as soon as ya can.”

“I don’t know what to say. You fixed it!”

“Yeah.”

You reach out, placing your hand on his arm. Your eyes drill into his, and he swallows thickly at the intensity of your gaze. Goosebumps form on his skin. He finds himself looking at where you’re touching him. It’s a gentle rhythm your finger is drumming on his skin, but he doesn’t mind. You’re being soft with him, almost like he is made out of glass. Seconds start feeling like hours. The air sizzles like a broken power cord. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. 

Before Michael can answer, your arms wrap around his broad shoulders, and you pull him into a hug. You, the kind-hearted stranger that he knows he doesn’t deserve, are hugging him, and you pour so much affection into it, he shivers and the tears start knocking on the window of his soul again, asking to be let out. It’s the kind of touch that tingles long after it’s gone, but you’re so warm, your skin is so soft and God, you smell divine. You’re heaven on earth, and your hair feels as shiny as it looks. 

He hugs you back. He only endures it when other people touch him, even though he craves it. This is the first time he’s felt this comfortable in years, and your touch becomes a remedy he never thought he would be able to find. 

You pull away after a moment. “Thank you for saving my ass.”

He hasn’t quite processed your reaction yet, so all he does is nod. As your grip loosens completely, he slips out and reaches for his discarded jacket. He puts it back on, clearly planning on leaving. The coffee he told himself he would come here for is long forgotten. The hug unraveled something in him, and the way it makes him feel is vulnerable. He can feel the guard he keeps high around his heart slowly slipping away. Your kindness is a trojan horse and you’ve almost managed to breach all of his defenses. 

Not wanting him to leave, you find yourself reaching for his arm before he can step back in front of the counter. “How about I repay you with another coffee?” you ask. “It’s on the house.”

You hope he says yes, even if it means just a few more minutes with him. 

Michael stares at your hand and how close it’s hovering above his bandage. You meet his eyes, moving your gaze lower. He can tell the question once again burns on the tip of your tongue, but whatever curiosity you have, you swallow. You swallow it for the sake of his comfort, for the sake of getting another chance, and not to scare him away. He’s like a deer in headlights to you, and deers are shy. 

Why you’re so obsessed with him, you’re not sure. It can’t be healthy, neither for your heart nor for your job, but he is different in a way that redirects your focus solely on the man he is. You don’t focus on his looks, you focus on Michael alone, and he’s not used to the kind of attention you’re willing to give him, so he’s stuck in a stormy, unfamiliar land, and you’ve got him almost entirely exposed. 

This is new for both of you, but for him, it’s worse because he’s forgotten what it’s like to be with people that have never set foot into his life before, and you? You’re a breath of fresh air, something he knows he tends to corrupt and disrupt, but he can’t find it in himself to stop. He’s weak, he’s needy and it’s you. God, it’s just you, it’s all of you, and it drives him crazy, it makes him angry and it makes him want to run out of fear, just to protect you, to protect himself, to stop his life from spiraling out of control and hurting any more people, but you’re normal; Michael needs normal because that’s what he needs to learn how to be if he wants his daughter back and start anew, maybe even get a proper second chance. 

But it’s hard. It’s so, so hard. 

He hears himself talk, but he’s not in control. “On the house, huh?” he answers like he doesn’t understand what it means, or what you’re trying to tell him. Maybe he doesn’t. 

The note was nice, but to him, you seem like the kind of person that would do such a thing for about anyone who has a bad day, and he knows he looks like he has bad days rather frequently. Why he can’t admit to himself that you’re making yet another move at him, that’s not entirely clear. It’s good that you’re normal and deep down, he knows you’re good for him, but it’s also the reason why admitting it to himself is such an inner conflict. Everything that isn’t good for him always ends up being Michael’s first choice because the pain is a bittersweet reminder of what he thinks he deserves. And you don’t deserve a man like that. 

The hope in your eyes reignites. “I can make you another toffee nut latte,” you offer. You sound a little shy, but you look even cuter up close. 

“I was gonna order a—”

“Don’t say double–”

“Double espresso,” he says, and you find yourself uttering the same two words at the same time. 

Your eyes meet, and then you find yourself laughing. The clear sound fills the room with its soft melody. He looks away, his blush palpable as he tries hard not to smile, but he can’t help it. 

“Yer gonna refuse to serve me a double espresso, aren’t ya?” He looks back at you. 

You gnaw on your lip sheepishly. “Maybe,” you say. “But if you don’t want the same as yesterday, I have something else I think you’ll like.”

“I’m not adventurous.”

“That’s what they all say.”

“Are ya going to let it be if I say no?”

“No,” you shake your head, “Probably not.”

“And if I say yes?” 

“You just have to trust me.”

Trusting you, he thinks, can’t be so hard. You’re an easy person to trust. You’re not the enemy. And you’re also not going to poison him.  

Michael sighs. “Yer insufferable,” though he says it with a smile. 

You take the glint in his eyes as a silent answer. As he moves back to his designated spot in front of the counter, you grab a plastic cup to your left. “You okay with iced coffee?” you ask. 

He raises his eyebrows.

“I take it that’s not something you have thought about often?”

“I don’t drink ice,” he says. 

“First of all, it’s not pure ice. It’s just coffee with ice cubes. A Frappuccino would be drinking the ice cubes with your drink because they get tossed in the blender with the rest of the ingredients. And second of all, you must have been curious about iced coffee at least once. Or have you never at least tried it?” 

“Never.”

“Well, you just have to really trust me on this then.” 

“If I get a brain freeze because of ya–”

You smirk. “Trust me, Michael.”

He caves. 

Michael watches you move with grace. You’re completely in your element. Every once in a while, your hips sway to the rhythm of whatever song is playing on the radio, and you seem a lot happier now than before. He’s made your day with a simple gesture, and he feels proud of himself for that. He used his hands for good this time. He succeeded. He made himself useful, even if it was just a simple wooden sign that needed to be adjusted. And now he’s getting a free coffee for it. 

Maybe being forced to wash cars instead of getting a proper job with Amanda just because Frank can’t live with him not wanting to do dirty work anymore isn’t something he should settle for, after all, no matter how good it may look on the papers for the court. 

After a few minutes of debating whether or not to bring up the courage to ask you, his thoughts are interrupted by the sound of ice cubes clinking together, and you place the plastic cup on the counter before him. 

He expected an iced latte or a frappuccino maybe, but not whatever it is that you have just placed before him. The drink is blue, maybe even a little shiny in the sunlight. The ice cubes are dancing around each other inside the plastic cup, and there is a tiny blue flower swimming in the foam on top. 

Your smile widens at his surprised expression. He looks impressed, even. You take a straw and poke it through the hole, then push it closer for Michael to grab. 

“What’s that s’posed to be?” he asks. He’s a little weary as he eyes the cup. 

“Poison,” you deadpan. 

He frowns. 

You snort at how easily he seems to believe you. He’s… unique. “Kidding! It’s not poison, what kind of person do you think I am?”

“The kind that would poison their customer with a fuckin’ blue potion.”

“Hey!”

It’s his turn to smirk, but when he does, it looks a little dirtier than yours. “Just messin’ with ya,” he says. He tries to imitate you, but he fails miserably. 

You roll your eyes, encouraging him to take the cup. “It’s called Butterfly Pea Flower,” you explain, and your voice is no longer joking. “It’s not a poisonous flower. It’s originally from Asia, that’s where it grows, but you can get it in many other countries. And it’s edible. If you buy it to make drinks or coffee, it usually comes like this–” you lift the small package with the blue powder that you’ve used to pour into the milk of his latte, “but don’t let the color fool you because it tastes delicious. The flower itself has a natural blue tint, so the powder does too. The flowers in the foam taste like nothing because they’re just edible flowers, they’re not the same. Oh, and the coffee itself,” you say, “is the strongest espresso we have mixed with some milk and a sweet, sweet layer of foam with a sprinkle of chocolate and caramel. You’re welcome.”

You wink at him. He finally takes it, sniffing the content. “Hm,” he murmurs. 

“What now?”

“Smells… normal,” he says. 

“You seriously think I’d poison you?”

If only you knew the things he’s encountered before. But no, he doesn’t think that – he would never. Not from you, anyway. 

“If you keep thinking of me like that, I’ll give you a reason to think of me like that,” you say. It doesn’t as terrifying now that you’ve said it.

Michael bites back a grin. “Yeah, sure,” he says.

Asshole, you think.

He guides the straw to his mouth and sucks on it. You look away quickly. The way his lips purse around the top shortly after his tongue has traced a circle around it have you regretting your choice to offer an iced coffee instead of a regular latte. 

Who would have thought that the shy, almost damaged-looking man who helped you out when you needed it after you helped him out when he needed it would be such a fucking tease. 

He leaves the bitter yet sweet liquid to rest on his tongue for a bit. You see the wheels in his head turn, and his eyebrows furrow as he judges the taste. His lips smack, the foam making his tongue feel fuzzy, but the taste itself is unique. Very unique. It’s different than a traditional latte, and it’s not just the color. He doesn’t know what to say at first because even with your first recommendation that you forced him to order, you did not fail, and you also didn’t disappoint with this one, either. 

“And?” you ask. 

“Hm.”

“Michael.”

“Delicious,” he says. 

It’s as good as it gets. 

“Told you,” you smile. 

He returns the smile in a smaller manner, but he’s smiling nonetheless. “I’ve never had iced coffee before, but ya made it easy to like.”

That’s an even bigger compliment and your sass from before vanishes into a flush. 

“Are ya sure it’s on the house?”

“Very much so,” you say. 

Reaching beside you, you grab one of the butterfly cookies and place it on a napkin. You hesitate. Looking up at him sipping his iced latte, you ask yourself if you should just mention the note to him and crush your hopes before you can get them up, but it’s still a bold move. And you’re unsure. You’re shy. You don’t trust your voice. So you take the Sharpie and start writing on the napkin before sliding it into a paper bag together with his free cookie and handing it back to Michael. 

Maybe he will read it, and if he does, he’ll know that the first note wasn’t a coincidence and that this is meant for him and him only. You don’t do this for everyone. You can hear Sarah laughing in the back of your head, and she would have told you to ask him personally and cut this back-and-forth short, but something tells you that writing notes is an easier way into his heart than confronting him with something that might overwhelm him the same way it does you. 

The bag slips out of your hand when he takes it, frowning at you once again. 

“It’s Tuesday, and everyone gets a free butterfly cookie on Tuesdays,” you tell him. 

It dawns on him. You did the same thing for the couple that’s still sitting in the corner of the café. He nods and takes it. It’s just a cookie, after all. 

He turns to leave and he hears you say, “Have a good day, Michael!” It doesn’t sound like the voice you use with your other customers. This is the you he expects you to be outside of work, the you that is even kinder and even more open with the people around her, and his heart swells, his guard continuing to slip ever so slightly. 

Michael turns around. He opens his mouth and says your name. It echoes. In his mind, it does. He stops thinking. The words are about ready to slip from his tongue. 

You have a nice smile too. 

But then you beam when he says your name and you ask him, “Yes, Michael?” 

And he forgets. He can’t speak. He wants to, but he also doesn’t, and he can’t. His vocal cords shut down and he’s left with nothing but a weak breath of air. The further he gets from you, the harder it gets to breathe, and real life starts to seep back into his bones. His body aches. The bubble bursts. He’s left there, standing naked in the eye of the storm, and the tornado tears down everything around him and lastly, himself. 

He can’t do it, and he can’t do it to you. 

“Oh just… Nothin’,” he says. He can see the exact moment your heart drops and your hopes are shattered. He feels like an idiot now, but he can’t change it. “Have a nice day,” he adds your name in hopes to redeem himself, but you only nod with a smile that’s far weaker than the first one, and then you say goodbye to him.

He leaves you behind with a heavy heart. The coffee in his hand and its bright blue remind him of you. To him, you are colorful too. You’re not a gray cloud, you’re a rainbow. You’re the sun. You’re everything good and light, and the blue represents the kind of person you are. You put your heart into it, he can taste it. Even more, does he feel bad for being such an incompetent idiot. 

Loneliness follows him home. He ignores Jimmy’s calls and he takes a different route to make sure none of his family sees him. Once the door is locked behind him, the four walls that are supposed to feel safe only fill him with dread. 

The coffee cup with your note is still sitting on the table. He takes it. Your handwriting hasn’t smudged. Feeling the tears well up in his eyes, he clenches his fist, and the paper crinkles. Your handwriting disappears. It doesn’t make his bad day better today; the nostalgia makes him feel so much worse. He’s not smiling, and he doesn’t deserve that compliment. 

He tries not to cry when he sips the last few drops of his latte and unwraps the cookie. You have been way too nice to him. You made it sound like professional courtesy, but there is nothing professional about it. 

The napkin slips out, falling to his feet. He’s about to crinkle it too, his hand already hovering above the garbage, when he notices the same black Sharpie that has written his name on a cup twice now. 

“Michael, you’re a good person. Don’t forget to smile 2day. It’s still nice when you do. X – the annoying barista who makes you buy overpriced coffee :)”

This is the first time he sees your handwriting smudge. He wishes he could blame it on the condensation of his cup, but the wetness has already traveled to his cheeks and he can’t hold it back anymore. 

The tears start falling. They wet the napkin and the note. The ‘X’ that is supposed to mark a kiss gets lost under the rain of his emotions, and he can barely see your name anymore. Your face blurs. 

And then, he breaks. 

Tagging: @bellaxgiornata @loveroftoomanyfandoms @acharliecoxedfan @lina-mar @itwasthereaminuteago @mattkinsella

#michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x you #michael kinsella #kin amc #michael kinsella angst #michael kinsella fluff #coffee shop au #hurt/comfort #michael kinsella fic #michael kinsella smut #reader insert #no y/n #michael kinsella x f!reader #michael kinsella x afab!reader #butterfly effect #mini series

[silentwillowwhisperer]

Yayyy!

Guys, I completely forgot that yesterday was @lilcatastrophe's birthday!

You are absolutely amazing!!!! Imma make myself write something in your honor, thank you so much for being so kind and encouraging!

Have I written a birthday themed thingy yet?

(My brainstorming process is saying, 'What's a stupid thing we can do to Keith' until I have an idea.)

I love the word extravagant. Flamboyant is fun too. It sounds like flamingo.

-------------------------------

Lance is distraught.

He had been planning to throw Keith a surprise birthday party in honor of their unexpected friendship. He'll never say it aloud, but Keith might actually become a closer friend to Lance than Hunk.

It's hard to say when that started.

Maybe it was late at night in the kitchen when nightmares kept them both up, and they talked for hours just to avoid sleep.

Or it could be seeing Keith laughing on some distant planet somewhere in space, after they had pulled a prank on Shiro out of boredom. (They may have switched his shampoo out for hair dye. Shiro is still quite intimidating with a neon-pink hair floof.)

There's a million tiny moments with Keith that Lance could list, but regardless, he wants to show his appreciation towards Keith in some (extravagant) way.

However, the red paladin had pulled him aside just a couple days before to request that Lance wouldn't do anything big for him.

So now Lance is having a crisis.

Shiro is no help, he apparently finds the whole situation funny, chuckling lightly anytime Lance paces past him.

Keith’s birthday comes too soon. And all Lance has to show for it is a badly wrapped knife, some alien bananas that taste like strawberries, and a cupcake that he made under the careful guidance of Hunk.

They didn’t celebrate, Shiro respects The fact that Keith hates attention, and everyone else kind of just forgot.

Lance taps his knuckles softly to Keith’s door, and there’s a muffled clamor from inside the room before Keith comes out.

Keith scans the tanned boy in front of him wearily before asking with a raised brow, “Can I help you?”

For some reason, Lance clams up and just shoved the gifts into Keith’s face.

At some point, they’ve both ended up in Keith’s room atop his bed.

Keith’s eyes widen when he sees the gifts, and for a moment Lance is ashamed. He feels pretty shabby giving Keith such generic gifts, but his spiraling thoughts are cut off by the other paladin leaping into his arms.

“Thank you. You… I didn’t know I needed this until you gave it to me.”

For a second, Lance thinks Keith is talking about the knife, but then he notices sincere amethyst eyes trained on him.

“You always know what I need, even before I do.”

The warmth that fills Lance is like summer rain and sunsets over the glittering ocean, but more importantly, it’s being here with Keith in his arms.

He stands suddenly and grabs the cupcake before carrying Keith all the way to the observatory, ignoring any protests.

Lance loves this room becomes of its lack of walls. The whole ceiling is made of a glass dome, and the only actual wall is the one with the door.

It’s almost scary, and Lance feels almost lost surrounded by the cosmos like this.

He turns to Keith and hold the small cake up.

“Happy birthday, Love. You deserve every one of these stars and so much more.”

Keith dismisses the random pet name and curls up at Lance’s side.

“Nah. This is all I need.”

They split the cake and stare up at the stars (and Lance graciously ignores the fat, happy tears rolling down Keith’s face).

And you know what? Like this, Lance really does feel like he has absolutely everything.

———————-

You’re the greatest, Kay! Once again, have the happiest happy birthday!

#happy birthday #vld keith #voltron legendary defender #keith kogane #lance vld #lance mcclain #vld #voltron #technically klance #klance #tawny post #kay tag

[nyxvamps]

little angsty story about a child of hestia that i might write a full fic about (from their claiming to the very end) at a later date.

how sad would it be if a child of hestia thought that their mother loved them so much. and compared to the relationships of other gods and their children, lady hestia is doing amazing.

but after years of being the backbone of camp, taking care of all the kids there, with some inner urge to protect and cultivate a family. taking on all of their worries, fears, insecurities, trauma as well as their accomplishments, dreams, happiness, etc. this child is tired.

they are tired of having to pick up the slack for gods that have been told over and over again to take care of their kids. (a war was fought, cmon guys). the gods can split their being into multiple pieces to do things all over the world but they can’t send a part of themselves to spend a day with their kids?

and the kids can see this. they see that this one demigod (as well as their older siblings) are the ones who have been actually raising them. the gods may show up every few months (maybe twice a year) but that isn’t the same as crying on their shoulder when you have a nightmare or having someone to show the high score you got on your test. they start placing their loyalties somewhere else.

and one day, this child of hestia realizes that something isn’t right. that their mother hasn’t been responding to their prayers and seems to be avoiding them at the fires around camp. their mother, who was once their guiding light in this messed up world, is distancing from them. and it all comes to a head.

the gods are scared of how loyal their children are to this one demigod. this child of hestia has been practicallly raising this camp full of kids (bc chiron and mr. d can only do so much) since they turned 16 and this child has the entire camp in the palm of their hand. they know what might happen if the gods did something to this child, all of their children would riot.

yes, many of the demigods love their godly parents, but how can you be loyal to someone who is never there? they weren’t there when you broke up with your boyfriend. they weren’t there when your best friend didn’t come back from a quest. they weren’t there when you finally got that bullseye. they weren’t there.

so the gods need to do something. they promise their children that THEY wouldn’t harm this child. they say they need to be separated. it’s not ok for so many of you to see this one demigod as a parent. it’ll do everyone some good for this child to leave for awhile.

outside of that throne room, no one knew where exactly this child would go. they knew that if they killed them, their children would be lost from them forever. but they can’t let the child stay, could they? so they got rid of them.

sent them somewhere where they could be retrieved at a later date to appease their other children. and what better place to send someone who you want gone and where no one else could find them? deep, deep down under the earth.

when the verdict was made, the child knelt there in the throne room. hands bound and the energy in the air making the hairs on their arms and neck stand. when they tried to make eye contact with their mother, she looked the other way. Lady Hestia is the goddess of family and the hearth, and she had made her decision.

she may love her child, but she has to do what’s best for the entire family. and so she says nothing.

#pjo #pjo headcanons #pjo headcanon #pjo au #godly parents #percy jackson #child of hestia #pjo angst #angst

[thora-jane]

Poncho (pt. i/?)

Told y’all I’d be back. I really don’t know how long this’ll be, but I started writing it. We’ll see where this takes us.

Summary: years after the Mantis’s crew splits up, you’re still with Greez on Koboh. But when disaster strikes, your quiet life may be disrupted.

Wordcount: 1698

warnings: Cannon-typical violence, light swearing, vague angst, some spoilers for Jedi Survivor

Koboh sunrises never got old. Not to you. Walking along the trail in the morning had become a habit, a ritual. Your day didn’t start until after you had walked the perimeter of the little prospecting town you had spent the past few years at. You never had much to say about Koboh, but you liked the peace it brought. And over the years you had earned the respect of those that called that place home. It was you who circled Rambler’s Reach every morning and took care of any bramlik or gorger problem, or heaven forbid the occasional gorocco or rancor. And when the Bedlam Raiders got a little too close to the edge of town, it was you who took your blaster and quickly taught them to stay away if they knew what was good for them.

What you had going for you was a life. An honest life. A respectable life. 

A quiet life. A lonely life. 

Someone had to take care of Greez. Keep him out of trouble. That’s what you told yourself at least. You two had been on your own for years. Ever since everyone else had broken off and gone in their own direction, you two stayed side-by-side. And after he lost his arm, you knew you weren’t going to go anywhere without him. 

“Hey kid,” He greeted over his shoulder as you made your way down the steps of the saloon, “How’s it lookin’ out there?” 

“Not much. Couple of bramliks. But no one hurt. Just a few startled boglins,” you slouched into the stool next to him as he slid over a plate of food, “Weather’s great though.”

“What is it with you and boglins? We stop back at Bogano once and you bring back a whole heard of them.” He rolled his eyes and threw his hands over his head, “Next thing you know I can’t go outside without stepping in boglin droppings. And who’s fault is that?”

You let out a breath just shy of a laugh, “What you don’t think they’re cute?”

“Oh sure! They were cute back on Bogano. But why’d you have to take ‘em with us?” He kept talking, his voice trailing off as he wandered out of earshot. 

You chuckled to yourself. Greez didn’t need you half as much as you needed him. You were pretty sure he knew that too, though neither of you ever said it. You did your best not to think about the life you too had lead before you settled in Koboh. The things you left behind. The places you were avoiding.

The people you were hiding from.

Yes, the galaxy needed help. It needed help real bad. But the folks here needed help too. And maybe you were no great jedi, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t help and defend this town.

You finished up the rest of your food and headed down to the quarters to two of you shared. With the morning here and the day beginning, it was time for you to venture out a little further from town.

“-And their fur? Oh don’t get me started! You can’t do anything with it. But those little wispy hairs get everywhere!” Greez began swatting at his mouth with all four hands, pretending to spit. You strode right past him on the steps.

“Yeah but you can’t beat the way they curl up on your lap,” You reasoned, reaching for your wide brimmed hat from the post by your bunk.

“Wait, they do that? They’ve never done that with me! How come they do that with you?” He threw one set of hands in the air while resting the other on his hips.

“Because they like me.” You smirked again, settling your hat atop your head, “I’m heading out.”

“Wherever you’re going, be careful. The-”

“The Bedlam Raiders are acting up again? I know. Why else do you think I’m heading out?” You spun around, walking backwards so you could look at him, lifting up the panel of fabric to reveal an old blaster, “Someone’s gotta keep ‘em in their place.”

“Just don’t get hurt out there, kid.” Greez sighed as you spun back around and took the stairs two at a time. 

***

“Heya.” Mosey greeted, “fixin to head out again?”

You didn’t say anything, just nodded, pulling the brim of your hat down a bit more to shield your face. You wandered over to Phenny, the Nekko that had taken a liking to you. You grabbed the quaterstaff you kept in Phenny’s stall and slipped it in the saddle holster in silence You adjusted the saddle before hopping on, patting it’s neck and letting it know to start moving. 

“Stay safe out there, Poncho.” Mosey smiled.

“Thanks,” You mumbled before Phenny took off. 

Poncho. It was true that you didn’t care much for talking to anyone in the last few years. But for the people of Rambler’s Reach, that suited them just fine. You didn’t want to share your name? Fair enough. You’ll just have to learn to respond to their new name for you. The whole town wasn’t going to call you kid. That was reserved for Greez alone. Instead, they went for much lower hanging fruit. Poncho. Not the most creative nickname, but there wasn’t anyone else in town dressed like you, so everyone knew who was being referred to. ‘Cause who else wore the same poncho every damn day?

Which you probably wouldn’t have minded if the poncho had actually been yours.

You hunched down, motioning for Phenny to run faster along Koboh’s rocky ridges. 

Breathe, you thought to yourself, just breathe. It was what you reminded yourself every time you felt trouble creeping inside your mind. But today felt particularly challenging. You didn’t know why, but something about the air just felt…off. 

You and Phenny traveled up along the cliffside, slowly approaching where the tar pits began to flow. If this had been a mission like you had done in years past, you would have been here as fast as possible. But life on Koboh was smaller than the galaxy. The raiders were rising more each day, but life moved a little slower. And when it came to stopping them, it was better to take your time than rush.

 You hopped off your Nekko and tied him up to the nearby tree, safely hidden in the shrubbery. From your point along the ridge you could see scattered clusters of the raiders and their droids below. Nothing you couldn’t handle from a distance, though.

Breathe you repeated to yourself as you got down on your belly in the dirt and crawled up the the edge of the cliff, slowly pulling out your blaster and closing your eyes.

“Let go of the tension and fear your mind holds. Let go of your surroundings, free your mind and allow each blast to be guided towards the target,” You couldn’t go a round of Raider Pushback without repeating what Cere had told you when you first learned how to use a blaster. And ever since then, your aim had been near perfect. Not that you had ever bragged, swearing instead that it had been the blaster you used, not your own doing.

After a moment, you opened your eyes. The smell of blaster smoke filled your nostrils, and out across the cliff you could see the remnants of clankers and commando droids. Quickly getting to your feet and grabbing your staff from your side, you began your next phase of pushback.

You called it deflection practice. Greez called it stupid. The raiders didn’t call it anything. How could they? They never had a chance to.

Holding your staff in both your hands, poised and ready for whatever blasts were shot your way. You watched as the three raiders scrambled to draw your blasters. 

Let go of the tension and fear your mind holds

*ping* A blast hit your pole as you shifted your grip, feeling the vibrations in your palm as you ricocheted the blast back towards the shooter, landing it as he dropped dead.

Free your mind. Allow each blat to be guided toward your target

*ping* The next blast ricocheted and hit its shooter

You’re one of the greatest shots I know, (y/n). The force will always be with you wherever you go.

You let your mind wander too far, out to where it shouldn’t have gone. His voice echoed in your head. Before you could regain your grip, you heard the blast whiz past your staff and scorch the poncho you had on. You felt yourself drop and roll to the ground, reaching for your blaster and shooting the raider square in the head before they had another chance to fire.

That was all you could do for today. Any more and there could be grounds for an ambush on the outpost. You rolled over onto your back, removing your hat and looking up at the sky. It had been forever since you let your memories get the best of you like that. His voice felt louder than it had been in the past, it was like you could feel him close to you again. And you had let it get the better of you. Which was stupid, because you got shot. And if you weren’t careful you’d get shot again. And next time you might not be so lucky.

Phenny stirred over in the brush, pulling you away from your self-reprimands. As you sat up, something in the sky caught your eye. You quickly put your hat back on and squinted up towards the clouds, just in time to see an all-too-familiar ship come flying down and landing on the other side of the tar pits.

“You gotta be shitting me.” You mumbled to yourself, scrambling to untie Phenny and ride back to Rambler’s Reach at break-neck speed.

You hated to say it, but it had to have been the Mantis. And given the shape it was in, it must’ve been in need of repairs. Which meant only one thing.

If you dodn’t hide fast enough, you were about to see Cal Kestis for the first time in years.

(a/n) and that’s all we have for now! I’ll try to write more as often as I can. But make sure you drink some water, eat a snack or something, and maybe get up and stretch if you can. Thanks for reading! Love yas<3

#thora's late night thoughts #thora’s trying her best #<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3 #cal kestis x reader #cal kestis #jedi survivor #jedi fallen order